White Collar: The Eye of Sita
by Phoenix-cry
Summary: D.C Art Crimes brings Peter on a case that holds a piece of the puzzle of Neal's past. Neal, enjoying the D.C art scene, stumbles on a crime that is a work of art in and of itself. When the two cases cross paths they'll need all their skills to solve them
1. Chapter 1

Note from the Phoenix: Hello all! If you are new to my stories, welcome, I'm a very chatty author who loves to talk with readers. So never hesitate to send me a note.

A note on setting, this story takes place near the end of season 3, but before the finale of 'Countdown', no real need to have seen season 3 other than to help understand a few references here and there.

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><p>White Collar: The Eye of Sita<p>

Chapter One

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><p>"Yes, Sir, I'll be there."<p>

Peter hung up his desk phone and sighed. It was Monday morning and already his week was looking complicated.

"Neal's not going to like this."

Right on time, actually nearly two hours late, Neal strolled into the office. Peter glanced out the window behind him and as he guessed it was a beautiful Spring day out there. Neal was always late to work when the weather was good. He had a bright smile for everyone and greeted them all by name, asking casual questions about friends and family.

Peter had long since stopped nagging Neal about coming into the office on time. If they were actively working on a case Neal was a lot more timely and in the end that was what counted. Ignoring Neal for now Peter started preparations for the case that had just been handed to him over the phone.

It took Neal nearly half an hour to chat his way through the office and head up the stairs to Peter's office. Looking bright eyed and bushy tailed Neal sat down in the chair across from Peter's desk and lounged in it comfortably.

"Morning, Peter."

"No. No, morning is seven am when the rest of us get here." Peter growled. "This is not morning, this is practically lunch time."

"You and Elizabeth have another dry cleaning fight?" Neal asked sympathetically.

"What? No. I just..."

"Well then what are you all worked up about?"

"I'm not 'worked up'."

"Diana?" Neal called over his shoulder.

"You're pretty worked up, Boss." Diana confirmed as she walked passed the open door reading a file.

"See?" Neal smiled. "So what's going on?"

"Neal, I have to go to Washington."

"D.C or state?"

"D.C."

"Okay." Neal shrugged.

"For a week, maybe longer."

Neal's eyes widened in genuine horror mixed with betrayal. Peter hated that looked, it reminded him of the look Satchmo gave him on the mornings that he was too busy to take him for a walk as he was leaving for the office. Neal got to his feet and paced for a second before settling down.

"Take me with you." Neal begged.

"No."

"Please."

"No."

"You know my contract with the Marshals says I have to be on house arrest while you're out of town."

"I know."

"Don't leave me locked up in my apartment...I will return to my life of crime just for something to do."

"It's just a week." Peter said wearily. "Two at the most."

"That's easy for you to say. Try being cooped up indoors for a week or more, particularly in the Spring. It's maddening. I don't idle well."

"I've got plenty of paperwork to keep you busy." Peter offered.

"That is outright abuse," Neal complained "cruel and unusual punishment."

"I could have you sent back to prison while I'm away, I hear they have a nice exercise yard you can spend an hour a day in."

"Ha ha."

"The answer is 'no', Neal. I can't take you with me on this one."

Neal made a noise of frustration before becoming lost in thought. Peter always got nervous whenever Neal got quiet like this. He could practically hear Neal's thoughts as he ran through his options. It didn't take very long for Neal to come up with a new angle of attack. He sat back down and brought the chair closer to the desk. Leaning forward he lowered his voice.

"I'll cry." Neal warned with a vulpine grin.

"You wouldn't."

"I can."

"You won't."

"I will."

"Neal..."

"Tears on demand is a very useful skill." Neal said as he blinked hard to brighten his eyes with crocodile tears. "You never know when a con is going to require a little extra emotion."

"I really do hate you sometimes."

"Come on, Peter," Neal pressed "I'll be on my absolute best behavior."

"Your 'best behavior' still borders on criminal." Peter pointed out.

"You've never even seen my best behavior. Why do you need to go to D.C anyway?"

"Think about it."

"Is it your turn to do the monument tour for the kiddies? You know I always thought it was a myth that all Federal employees had to do that once a career."

"Neal, I'm going to help the D.C Art Crimes division."

"Ah." Neal said with realization. "Is it about me? Because there is no better expert on me than me. I can save you a lot of work and tell you with one hundred percent certainty that I'm not responsible for whatever it is."

"They didn't give me case details yet, but they made it extremely clear that they are not interested in your help."

"Fine, I don't have to help, but at least let me come along. I can keep myself entertained. I have always wanted to visit the National Gallery of Art, and the Smithsonian."

"Absolutely not...wait...you've never been to D.C?"

"No." Neal replied honestly. "By the time I had a chance I was on the top of your watch list. I couldn't risk strolling around a major art gallery."

"I did have warnings out to all of them." Peter admitted.

"It would be a crime not to let me go." Neal added. "Isn't the whole point of our partnership to help me evolve as a law abiding citizen? What better way to expand my cultural pride than a week in this great nation's capital?"

"I can't just let you wander D.C."

"You can change my leash with a few taps on your phone. Just pin me down in the Gallery during the day, I'm not going to steal anything if I can't go anywhere with it."

"I don't know..."

"Peter, I swear, if anything gets stolen in D.C during our stay I will deny full responsibility for it."

Peter narrowed his eyes, he wasn't fooled by Neal's word play for a second. Rather than his usual bright smile Neal settled into a serious expression in his attempt to sway Peter's mind. Peter took a breath to repeat his previous answer, but he hesitated. Neal pounced on the moment of weakness.

"Thanks, Peter. It will be fun, promise. Nothing like a road trip."

"Why do I feel like I'm putting a fox in a hen house?" Peter grumbled.

"I'd say more like a kid in a candy store."

"Neal, I'm taking a big risk doing this..."

"You will be amazed by my 'best behavior'."

"I'd better be."


	2. Chapter 2

Note from the Phoenix: If any of you are wondering how I update so fast it is because I'm waiting on a gallbladder surgery and I can't work until it's over and I'm healed. So I literally have nothing better to do. So enjoy, but don't get too used to this pace of updating. Once I'm back at work I'll have less time to sit with my laptop developing carpal tunnel syndrome...:)

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><p>White Collar: The Eye of Sita<p>

Chapter Two

"Nice. Peter, I'm impressed."

Neal walked into the spacious penthouse suite that the D.C office had provided. The modern decor was minimalist, but still managed to not feel cold. The lush white carpeting gave way to a set of glass french doors that opened up onto a planted patio. There was a breathtaking view of the Washington Channel and the flowering trees that lined its banks. Neal walked up to the well stocked bar set in the right wall and nodded in approval.

"This hotel makes me feel like a high class escort." Neal smiled mischievously. "I'm going to go find a Senator, bring him back here, and run a Badger Game scam."

"This is your best behavior?" Peter asked darkly.

"I was kidding. This is a vacation, lighten up."

"Vacation for you, thankless work for another department for me."

"Anytime you get to spend your nights in a place like this it's vacation, even if it's a working one."

"Don't get too comfortable here." Peter warned.

"Too late."

"And don't you dare bring anyone back here." Peter continued. "It's a set up suite for DEA stings, the whole place is wired for surveillance."

"Did someone from Art Crimes call in a favor with the DEA or did you?"

"It's nearing election time, there isn't an extra hotel room in all of D.C available on such short notice."

"Someone went to a lot of trouble to get you down here in a hurry." Neal mused. "You have to tell me what this is all about, the curiosity is killing me."

"I'm just following orders."

"Wow...spoken like a true Fed, or a war criminal."

"Neal." Peter growled.

"Alright, alright," Neal held his hands up in a gesture of peace "I'm sorry."

Peter looked like he was going to say something else, but instead he just carried his luggage into one of the bedrooms. Neal was particularly interested in a black case that Peter seemed protective of, even if he was trying to be nonchalant about it. It was a little larger than a brief case, but still held the standard rolling combination lock on it. It wasn't something that Neal could remember seeing with Peter before, but it had scratches and wear on it that showed it wasn't new.

Neal hadn't brought much along with him, he had mastered the art of packing light during his years on the run. Peter had come along with him to the apartment and had been surprised by how quickly Neal was ready to leave. He had seemed anxious in the apartment and despite Neal's record speed packing Peter was definitely in a hurry to leave and rushed him out the door.

"Toothbrush." Neal muttered to himself.

"What?" Peter asked as he came back into the main room.

"I forgot to bring a toothbrush."

"Amazingly enough I think they sell those here in D.C."

"Excellent. Disaster averted."

Peter made a slight noise of irritated frustration and started pacing around the room like a tiger that had just been introduced to a new zoo habitat. He had been quiet during the ride down, but that wasn't unusual. However, it was still clear that he didn't want to be in D.C and that he was hating each second with every fiber of his being. Neal didn't like it when Peter was on edge, it always placed him on egg shells as well.

"Are you sure I can't help you on this case?" Neal asked trying to be helpful.

"I don't even know what it is yet."

"So other divisions of the F.B.I can just commandeer you for cases whenever they want without giving you details?"

"I haven't been 'commandeered'." Peter corrected.

"You clearly don't want to be here."

"I don't like this city, I left for a reason."

"That's right," Neal said as he remembered "you started off your career in the Art Crimes division here in Washington. What made you make the change to White Collar and New York?"

"Politics."

Neal was a little taken aback by the sudden aggression in Peter's voice. He had started getting the feeling hours ago that Peter knew more about this mystery case than he was letting on. He had proof of that now. Peter put his hands on his hips and became lost in thought, or at least that's what it looked like. Experience told Neal that now was not the time to press Peter for more information.

"Well, you know where to find me if you need my help." Neal forced a smile. "Speaking of which, the Smithsonian doesn't close for a few more hours."

"Have fun."

"Why don't you come with me?"

"I should go touch base with the D.C office." Peter said evasively.

Peter turned and disappeared back into the bedroom where he'd left his luggage. He came back out with the black case that had caught Neal's attention. When Neal saw he was going to head for the door he casually placed himself in the way. Peter stopped and tried to stare Neal down.

"Neal..."

"It's nearly four o'clock, they'll be going home for the day by the time you get to the office in this traffic. The Natural History Museum is open till seven thirty, and you can walk to it from here in ten minutes. We've been in the car for the past five hours a little walking around will do you some good."

"I can't." Peter insisted. "You go."

Staying between Peter and the door Neal slipped his hands into his pockets and studied his friend. He'd never been good at hiding his stress, but today it was emblazoned on his face. Neal didn't like it, but he wasn't sure what he was dealing with yet. More and more he was starting to think that one of his past crimes was about to bite him in the ass courtesy of the D.C Art Crimes division.

"What?" Peter demanded in irritation. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Nothing." Neal replied innocently. "I just can't believe you're passing up a chance to see the Hope Diamond."

"I've seen it." Peter shrugged. "It's not all that exciting."

"How can it not be exciting?" Neal asked incredulously. "Peter, it's the Hope Diamond."

"It's a gaudy blue rock."

"It's an immortal piece of history."

"I just don't see the world the same way you do." Peter sighed in exasperation.

"Obviously."

"Look, Neal, do whatever you want." Peter said dismissivly as he pushed past Neal. "I have to go."

"'Do whatever I want?'." Neal repeated in shock. "Are you sure you mean that?"

Peter didn't reply, he was already heading out the door with the case. Neal was left standing in the middle of the lavish hotel suite with a concerned expression. He glanced down at his anklet, the orange light told him that he wasn't on any kind of radius. It would still record where he was going, but it wouldn't keep him from going anywhere. It wasn't like Peter to allow him so much freedom, particularly in a new city full of priceless treasures.

"Something is very wrong here..."


	3. Chapter 3

White Collar: The Eye of Sita

Chapter Three

Peter left the hotel and took the stairwell so that Neal wouldn't have a chance to catch him waiting at the elevator. He knew that he was acting suspicious, but he honestly didn't care. Right now he just wanted someone to yell at and he knew if he didn't leave soon that Neal would end up the victim of his frustrated anger.

Getting to his car Peter tossed the case into the passenger side and drove off. Neal was right about the traffic. Sitting in the gridlock that surrounded the city Peter just became more agitated. The cherry trees were in full bloom, but their beauty was lost on him. He looked over at the case and felt his stomach knot with guilt.

"I should have just told him. If anyone can keep a secret..."

Peter just let the thought trail off. It was too late now and he had been given direct orders from the top to keep this from Neal. What bothered Peter the most was that he couldn't figure out what they wanted it for. All he knew was that being called down to Washington wasn't good for him, and certainly wasn't good for Neal.

"I swear to God if Walters is behind this I'm going to punch him in the face."

With his feathers fully ruffled by the time he made it to the Federal building Peter was forced to pause and take a few deep breaths. There was no sense in going in already upset and on the defensive. The game would already be lost if he let anyone know how annoyed he was.

Regaining his composure Peter got out of the car. With the case in hand he went to his old office on the tenth floor. It was just after five and a majority of the staff was either gone or packing up. It had been nearly a decade since Peter had stepped foot in the Washington office. The few faces from the old days looked up at him in surprise.

"Agent Burke?" A middle aged clerk asked as he approached. "It's been a long time. How's New York treating you?"

"Just fine, Paul." Peter replied as cordially as he could. "Where's Agent Kramer?"

"Agent Kramer is on an overseas assignment with Interpol."

"Of course he is." Peter sighed. "So who is in charge when he's away these days?"

"Agent Walters."

"Of course he is."

The clerk suddenly looked uncomfortable. Peter had not made friends in the Washington office the same way he had in New York. As a Junior Agent straight out of Quanitco he excelled as an Agent, but had no patients for the politics of rank and seniority. When Agent Kramer had taken him under his wing and promoted him to division lead it had just caused more discord among the other Art Crime Agents. At the top of his enemy list was an Agent four years his senior, Agent Walters.

"Is Walters still here?" Peter demanded.

"In his office, down the hall to the..."

"I know where it is."

Peter knew where Walter's office was because it had once been his own. Pushing past the clerk Peter made his way directly to Walter's office. None of the other employes that recognized Peter dared to stop him to chat. When Peter came to Walters' door it was close. He went to just open it when he realized that proper etiquette demanded that he knock. Taking another deep breath to calm himself Peter knocked on the door.

"Come in, Agent Burke." Walters called through the closed door.

"Clearly you were expecting me." Peter said as he came in and stood in front of Walters' desk.

"Yes, have a seat."

"I'm fine standing. I don't plan to stay long." Peter countered. "Why didn't you call me yourself? Why did you have the Director himself call me for this?"

"I think you know why." Walters said casually.

"I don't like being forced into lying and stealing, so this better be damn important."

"I assure you it is. Do you have what we asked for?"

"You think I would have driven all this way if I didn't?"

"Does Caffrey know?"

"No."

"Did you bring him along?"

"You know I had to." Peter growled. "I don't see why I had to make him think it was his idea."

"That's our business."

"It's dangerous to con conmen, they tend to figure it out pretty quickly."

"You two have gotten pretty close over the past few years haven't you?"

"That's our business." Peter spat Walters' own words back at him.

"You've changed, Burke." Walters smiled. "You used to see everything so black and white, I'm pleased to see that you can finally detect shades of gray."

"Can we get started on this?"

Peter dropped the case on Walters' desk and flicked the combination lock open. Inside was a traditional cylindrical art protector case. Peter opened the cylinder and carefully pulled out a rolled up canvas. Walters reached out to take the painting. Peter hesitated to give it to him.

"Burke, you want me to show you the warrant? I can. Or I could show it to Caffrey and head up to New York myself to tear his apartment apart to get what I need."

"Walte..."

"Lord knows what else I'll find while I'm at it." Walters said with a touch of menace. "Or you could quietly hand it over and keep your 'pet' from worrying about Art Crimes breathing down his neck for a few more days."

"There is nothing illegal about any of the paintings in his apartment."

"I know, and don't worry, I'll give it back to you. You can mail it back to your people and they can have it waiting for him back in his apartment when he gets home. He never has to know."

Backed into a corner Peter sighed and handed the painting over to Walters. He still didn't understand why the Director of the F.B.I was suddenly interested in Caffrey's work, or why they were going to such trouble to make sure Neal didn't know they were investigating him. Pawns were being put in place for some kind of attack. Peter hated being one of those pawns, but saying 'no' to the Director was the same as turning in his resignation.

Walters uncurled the oil painting and admired it. It was a peaceful sunset scene of some quaint village nestled into the foothills. The sky was teetering between day and night with a few bright stars showing themselves where the darkness was replacing the day. A modest church steeple dominated the center of the village, highlighted by the dying rays of light.

"It's breathtaking, I'd put it on my wall." Walters said honestly.

"It would clash with the 'Dogs Playing Poker' that I'm sure is there now."

"Funny." Walter said as he continued to inspect the painting. "Vermeer in its style, but more Rembrandt in its lighting and use of color. It's very good."

"There's no law against talent." Peter said defensively. "Why does Art Crimes want a sample of Neal's art?"

"Edmond Locard, a French forensic pioneer..."

"I know who Edmond Locard is." Peter growled.

"Well he once said that every contact leaves a trace. Now we had a new way of detecting that touch."

"Art fingerprinting? I thought that was still just a theory."

"We have a working software prototype that is showing amazing promise. Every artist, no matter who they are pretending to be, leaves traces: the angle that they hold their brush, the depth that they push the paint, the strength of their lines, even the way their saliva effects the paint when they put the brush between their lips to bring the brush to a fine point."

"Too many variables. The program would be too complex to be accurate. When a forger attempts a work they take the original artist's style into account and it changes the variables."

"It does, but the underlying details can't be changed. Every artist leaves their own particular mark and we're going to prove it. We recently acquired seven paintings that are suspected of being done by Caffrey."

"This is a waste of everyone's time, Walters." Peter growled. "You are never going to get a conviction with technology this new. I don't care what your science geeks say, you still can't prove any of what you have is Neal's work."

"You're right." Walters agreed. "But we can certainly turn up the pressure on him. If I can trace even one of these paintings back to Caffrey's hand I can make his life very difficult."

"Walte..."

"You were the one that taught us that the best way to catch someone is to keep them running, keep them looking over their shoulder until they stumble."

"I already caught him."

"For one out of what is most likely dozens of crimes."

"This isn't about Neal at all, is it?" Peter asked suddenly.

"What?"

"This about you and I."

"You and I?" Walters forced a smile. "Peter, there is no 'you and I'. I'm not that petty."

"Yes you are." Peter said point blank. "Everyone knows you were kissing all the right asses to get the position in New York. You can't tell me you aren't still pissed that I got the job by simply being the better Agent."

"You never could play the game."

"That's because I didn't have to."

"In any case, thank you for the painting." Walters said. "I'll have it back to you in a few days."

"I'll be back here tomorrow morning."

"Burk..."

"I didn't come all the way down to Washington to be your delivery boy. You have a case involving Caffrey, then I'm on it."

"Don't you already have a case on him that you're working? Something about a Nazi treasure?" Walters baited.

"There's no evidence against him at this time."

"Your word choice proves to me that you don't quite trust your CI."

"Why do you suddenly need leverage over Caffrey?" Peter asked to change the subject.

"That's not your concern."

"Of course it is," Peter snarled "he's my partner."

"'Partner'?" Walters chuckled. "There's your problem right there. You've fallen from your rank as 'Golden Child' of the F.B.I, Burke. You've picked the wrong friends, and made your loyalties all too clear."

"There's nothing wrong with my loyalties."

"If you say so." Walters shrugged.

Peter had the urge to make good on his promise to God to punch the arrogant bastard in the face. Walters smiled brightly making it that much harder to resist striking him. Regaining his composure Peter leaned in slightly to look Walters straight in the eye. Walters backed down for a moment, breaking their eye contact.

"You're not doing this without me." Peter said firmly.

"Feel free to help me bring Caffrey down."

"Let me guess: you plan to drag me down with him."

"Your words, not mine."

"You're never getting my job, Walters."

"We'll see about that."


	4. Chapter 4

Note from the Phoenix: Well everyone my surgery went very well. I am in some pain, but that is to be expected. I have some really great drugs to get me through it! Hopefully my writing still makes sense while I'm on pain killers. :) The evil gallbladder has been defeated!

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><p>White Collar: The Eye of Sita<p>

Chapter Four

Neal had tried to catch Peter at the elevator, but he noticed the door closing to the stairwell and decided that Peter was not in the mood to talk further. Feeling helpless Neal just hoped that Peter's odd behavior didn't have anything to do with the hidden Nazi treasure that he and Mozzie were still sitting on. Neal was still hiding the manifest from Mozzie to try to buy more time on making a decision on what to do. He knew that every day he stalled the risks of being caught became greater, but he wasn't ready to just leave.

"Sometimes I wish the art had just burned."

Not in the mood to just hang around the empty hotel room waiting for Peter to come back Neal left for the Smithsonian. The Museum of Natural History was a lot larger than Neal had thought it would be. As he made his way towards the gem display he stopped to look at a model of a full grown Right Whale that was suspended from the ceiling. At 45 feet long the model was impressive.

Neal walked past a myriad of displays of taxidermied animals, including a skeleton of a rearing horse with a skeletal human trying to tame it. Glancing at a display of humming birds he marveled at how the feathered jewels rivaled real cut stones in color and shine. Although the animals were fascinating Neal was really more interested in the gem collection held at the Smithsonian.

Coming to the Janet Annenberg Hooker Hall of Geology, Gems and Minerals Neal found what he was looking for. With his hands held behind his back to reduce temptation Neal walked among the glass display cases of both natural and set gems. The DeYoung Pink Diamond glittered tantalizingly in the high intensity light of its case. Neal studied the well cut gem and the way the light played off of it.

"Just breathtaking." Neal smiled to himself.

Neal recognized the next display as a 75 carat emerald that once served as a belt buckle to Abdul Hamid II, Sultan of the Ottoman Empire. The hefty green emerald now sat in a brooch surrounded in brilliant diamonds. A set of large diamond earrings worn by Marie Antoinette caught Neal's attention. Neal quickly lost track of time as he wandered through the rows of emeralds, sapphires, rubies, pearls, and diamonds of every color. Each gem had a story to tell.

However, the gem with the most interesting story of them all was the famous Hope Diamond. The door to the Hope Diamond display room was closed. Walking up to the door Neal read the sign that informed guests that the Hope Diamond was currently being taken out of temporary setting 'Embracing Hope' and being returned to its classic Cartier designed setting. The diamond would be open to viewing tomorrow.

"I can wait, I would rather see it in its original setting."

An overhead announcement let Neal know the museum would be closing in fifteen minutes. A secondary door to the Hope Diamond display room opened and to Neal's surprise Sara stepped out with an older gentleman. They looked like they'd just had a very intense discussion. Sara assure him of something and he thanked her. Neal stood in his place and waited for the older man to leave.

"Sara?"

"Neal?" Sara asked in surprise as she turned around.

Sara looked around anxiously before approaching. Neal briefly wondered what it was about DC that put all his friends on edge. Sara looked as radiant as ever as she walked up to him. They had an awkward moment where she stepped in close enough for a kiss, but then backed away and flushed in embarrassment. Neal smiled and put his hands in his pockets. He wasn't really sure where their relationship stood at the moment either.

"What are you doing here?" Sara asked.

"I could ask the same of you."

"Business." Sara explained. "And you?"

"Pleasure."

"I see." Sara said suspiciously. "I didn't realize that Peter let you take vacations. Let alone so far outside your two mile radius."

"Don't worry," Neal pulled up on his pant let briefly to give Sara a glimpse of the black anklet. "I'm still wearing it."

"So I take it Peter is here somewhere."

"He's at the Federal Building."

"It must be really important to get him back to DC." Sara noted.

"Do you know anything about the circumstances under which Peter left for New York?"

"Not really. I just remember hearing through the grapevine that it would take a herd of wild horses or a court order to drag him back here. He made a lot of enemies here."

"It's hard to imagine Peter with enemies."

"It's hard to imagine him setting you loose on DC, but here we are."

Neal smiled and gave her a slight bow in defeat. The conversation stalled until another guest at the Smithsonian in a hurry to leave bumped into Sara and forced her to stumble forward a step. Neal was quick to close the small gap between them and caught her around the waist. Neal suddenly found his eyes locked on hers. Unable to pull away he risked leaning in and engaging her in a kiss that was a little too passionate to be appropriate for the public setting. The pair were like two magnets, they could resist one another until they got too close and then the attraction became too great to over come.

"I'd invite you back to my place," Neal offered "but the DEA has it bugged."

"My hotel is just across the Mall." Sara smiled.

Neal offered Sara his arm and she accepted. They managed to walk calmly to Sara's hotel room, but the instant the door was closed she pinned Neal against it with an aggressive kiss. When she released him from the kiss Neal laughed and ran his hands down her curved sides as she yanked his shirt out of the waistband of his pants. It had been nearly two weeks since they'd seen each other in New York, and if Neal's memory served him correctly what had supposed to have been a dinner out had just as quickly degraded into tearing at one another's clothing.

Not about to complain Neal pulled Sara's sandalwood scented hair to the side so that he could reach the zipper that ran down the back of her dress. Sara took a few steps back towards the bed with Neal following her. She worked at the buttons down the front of Neal's shirt after loosening his tie. Neal slipped her dress off her shoulders and kissed a trail up the side of her graceful neck.

"We really need to stop meeting like this." Sara muttered as she took a hold of Neal's belt.

"We do?" Neal smiled as he pulled away. "I'll stop if you want me to."

"Shut up."

Sara grabbed Neal's tie and yanked him into another lascivious kiss. Taking over the lead Neal guided her backwards over to and then down onto the bed. Although she always started off as the aggressor Sara became more submissive and open to slowing things down once they got started.

An athletic hour later the pair was exhausted and settled in together to enjoy the peace of afterglow. Laying on his back with Sara curled up against his side Neal smoothed out her hair. With her ear against his chest Sara listened to Neal's heart as it slowly returned to a regular rhythm. Neal wasn't sure he was in love with Sara, but he was sure that he loved making love to her.

"Thank you."

"That's what I like about you, Neal, you're always so grateful. As if you couldn't have any woman you wanted."

"I don't want just any woman." Neal smiled.

"Flattery will get you everywhere."

"I noticed."

Neal braced himself as Sara punched his shoulder in mock retaliation. They laughed and wrestled for a moment before settling back down. Sara played with Neal's anklet with her foot as they laid together. Sometimes Neal got the feeling that she enjoyed the fact that he was a captured felon and wondered just how many 'bad boys' she'd brought home to Daddy to annoy him.

Looking around the nice hotel room Neal caught sight of the clock on the wall. He hadn't realized how late it was. Rolling out of bed he started to collect his scattered clothing. Sara didn't seem as interested in getting up and stayed tangled in the sheets. Reaching into his jacket pocket Neal pulled out his phone and noticed that he hadn't missed any calls.

"You and that damn phone." Sara groaned.

"Sorry." Neal muttered sadly.

"Neal? What's wrong?"

"It's eight forty-five, the Smithsonian closed over an hour ago."

"So?"

"Peter doesn't know where I am, worse yet he doesn't seem to care."

"Awe, poor Caffrey, feeling neglected by your handler?" Sara teased as she sat up. "It's no fun anymore being bad if Peter doesn't yell at you?"

"It's not that. I'm worried about him." Neal said seriously as he started buttoning his shirt. "He's being acting strange ever since he got the call to come to DC. Has something happened here recently? Something I should know about?"

"Why are you asking me?" Sara asked defensively.

"Well, why are you here? You said it was business."

"I can't tell you."

"Of course not." Neal said in irritation. "No one can tell me anything."

"Neal, I'm sorry..."

"It's not your fault." Neal admitted. "I'm just frustrated."

"You think Peter's hiding something from you?"

"I know he is."

"Well...are you hiding something from him?"

Neal didn't answer right away. More and more he was becoming concerned that this was all connected to the treasure. Peter wouldn't want to believe it at this point. Neal had gone to great lengths to convince him that the art was simply gone. However he also knew that Peter hadn't let go of the idea that he was being lied to. Peter was a smart man, he was going to figure it out sooner or later. A point that Mozzie had been repeating ad nauseum lately.

"Neal?"

"I have to go. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. I'm the one who has been too busy to make it to that dinner you keep promising me."

"How about tomorrow night?"

"For what? Dinner?"

"Yes, an actual dinner where we actual go out and eat something."

"We'd better met at your bugged DEA hotel so that we behave."

"Sounds like a plan, how about six?"

"It's a date."

"It's probably best not to use that word." Neal smiled. "Every time we try to have a 'date' something seems to interrupt it."

"Good point. Dinner then."

"Peter and I are staying at the Cherry Blossom hotel, room 514."

"Fancy."

Finishing with with his tie Neal leaned in and gave Sara a good-bye kiss. He felt guilty slinking out of her room so quickly, but he was worried that Peter hadn't even tried to call him. Sara's hotel was on the opposite side of the Mall from where he was staying, about a half hour walk.

Neal wasn't sure what he was expecting to find when he arrived at the hotel, but seeing Peter sitting on the couch with his feet up on the coffee table calmly downing what appeared to be his fifth beer was not high on the list. Neal furrowed his brow and walked up to Peter. Taking a long pull at his beer Peter looked up at Neal. Counting the empty bottles on the table Neal found that it was actually Peter's sixth.

"Hey, Neal." Peter greeted casually. "How was the art?"

"Um...just fine. How was the office?"

"Everything I remember it being." Peter said darkly.

"Anything you want to talk about?" Neal asked cautiously.

"Your tie is on backwards."

Neal didn't understand at first. Peter reached up and pointed at Neal's tie. Looking down Neal realized that Peter was right, in his hurry to get dressed he had tied his tie so that the label side was out. Feeling increasingly uncomfortable Neal reached up and undid the tie. Peter didn't seem to care.

Looking around Neal saw the black case that Peter had taken to Art Crimes sitting on the floor just inside the bedroom that Peter had claimed. Unable to take the stress of not knowing what was inside Neal thought about the best way to get a look inside. He headed into the bathroom and spotted Peter's toothbrush.

"That'll work."

Neal picked up the toothbrush and washed it off well before putting some toothpaste on it. He turned on the water and rubbed the brush against his palm to make the brush look used. He washed his hand off and dabbed some toothpaste on the corner of his mouth to complete the picture.

"You know, Peter," Neal came out of the bathroom with the brush in hand "I was thinking..."

"Wha...what are you doing?" Peter demanded.

"Brushing my teeth." Neal shrugged.

"With *my* toothbrush?"

"I told you I forgot mine."

"So...you...I...wha..." Peter sputtered incoherently.

"What? I'll wash it."

Beyond speech Peter stared at Neal in horror. He put his beer down and got to his feet, heading for the door.

"Where are you going?" Neal asked innocently.

"Down stairs to get a new toothbrush." Peter snarled. "You're disgusting."

Neal smiled to himself as Peter stormed off to go get a new brush. Throwing the brush away Neal headed directly into Peter's bedroom and grabbed the case. The combination lock was easy enough to open. He held the slide catch open and found the tightest wheel and set it to zero before looking for the second tightest wheel. Flipping through the numbers and going back and forth between the tight wheels he was able to feel out the combination.

Opening the case he pulled out the cylindrical art protector and opened it. The cylindrical case was empty, but a quick sniff told Neal that there had been a fresh oil painting in there recently. It was a small case, it would have been a small painting. Neal furrowed his brow in thought as he put everything back where he found it. He recalled how anxious Peter had been to get him out of his apartment in a hurry and had a thought. Getting out his phone he called Mozzie.

"Hey, Neal." Mozzie answered. "How is the Capital of the Conspiracy World treating you?"

"Mozzie, are you at my apartment?"

"How did you know that?"

"You always raid my wine when I'm out on assignment."

"Good point. Yeah, I'm here."

"Go over to my easel. On the floor you'll see a stack of paintings leaned against the wall. There should be a painting that is twelve inches by eighteen there of a town at sunset. It should be right up front."

"Nope, the Water Lilies are up front."

"Look in the stack."

"The painting isn't here, but behind the Water Lilies there is an empty canvas stretching frame that size here."

"Damn it." Neal growled.

"What happened to the painting?"

"Peter stole it."

"Wha..."

Neal hung up the phone as he heard Peter opening the door. Going over to the couch Neal collected the empty bottles up to look like he'd spent the short time cleaning the place up. Peter didn't seem to suspect anything. Neal tossed the bottles away and turned to Peter.

"Find a new brush, Mr. Squeamish?" Neal teased.

"I got you one too." Peter tossed a packaged toothbrush at Neal. "The color should remind you which one is yours."

"Orange. Cute."

"It's a color I want you to think about really hard before you pull a stunt like that again."

"You'd send me back to prison for stealing your toothbrush?"

"Maybe."

"Come on, Peter...what's a little theft between friends?"


	5. Chapter 5

Note from the Phoenix: Just as a reference point the events of this story happen just before 'Taking Account'...which is why Sara wasn't unhappy to see Neal in the last chapter.

* * *

><p>White Collar: The Eye of Sita<p>

Chapter Five

Peter woke up and instantly regretted the quantity of beer that he'd consumed the night before. Looking at the alarm clock on the night stand he swore when he saw that it was already eight o'clock. Getting up Peter got dressed in a hurry. Going over to the safe in the closet he opened it and retrieved his sidearm from it.

Stepping out into the main room Peter spotted Neal out on the patio with some coffee and a newspaper. Peter wished he'd left him back in New York even though he would have quickly discovered the missing painting. He didn't like the idea that he'd brought him down here like a lamb to slaughter.

Trying to figure out why it had been so important that Neal come along Peter suddenly realized that Walters wanted Neal in DC to make any arrests and charges easier without having to cross state lines. In New York Peter would be the Agent in charge if any new warrants for arrest were served. Here in DC Peter was little more than a legal guardian.

"Crafty bastard." Peter muttered.

Although he was already late Peter stepped out onto the patio with Neal. Looking up from his paper Neal forced a polite smile. Peter had worked with Neal long enough to know when his smile was genuine or not. This morning it was definitely an act. Peter was about to return the act when he had a thought that forced him to smile.

"Peter?" Neal asked warily.

"You conned me last night with the toothbrush, didn't you?" Peter asked with a touch of respect in his voice.

"I did." Neal admitted freely.

"I take it you figured out what was in the case."

"I can't believe you stole from my apartment."

"It was that or let Art Crimes ransack your place."

"Don't try to rationalize with me." Neal snarled. "I would have given you the painting if you'd just asked for it."

"I know." Peter sighed in defeat. "I had ord..."

"Orders. Yeah, I've heard that line before." Neal said icily. "I guess I just figured after all these years together that if you were ever given orders to screw me that you'd at least warn me first."

"You're right. I've handled this badly." Peter said and then swore under his breath in frustration.

"Peter?"

"This is exactly what Walters wanted. He's setting us on each other like dogs in a ring, and he's enjoying the show."

"Agent Walters? I should have known he was involved."

"You know him?" Peter asked surprised.

"Peter, I know everyone who works at Art Crimes." Neal smiled as he quickly lost his brush with temper. "Maybe not personally, but certainly by reputation."

"Know thy enemy, eh?"

"Something like that."

"Neal, I know your past is basically a non stop crime spree."

Neal made a noncommittal shrug that neither confirmed nor denied Peter's accusation.

"I also know you're better than that now." Peter continued. "I don't know what cards Walters is holding, but I do know what he's after."

"Your job." Neal said simply.

"How do you kno..."

"I'm not ignorant, Peter. I'm also not blind, or naive, or stup..."

"Alright, alright, I get it." Peter interrupted. "I shouldn't have lied to you, I should have known you wouldn't fall for it. I'm sorry. I admit to my failings...are you happy now?"

"I'm a little happier." Neal mocked.

"Neal, this is serious. I need you to understand that we are both in big trouble here, Walters is not someone to be underestimated."

"How can I help?"

"For right now just enjoy the city, take in some art, and for God's sake stay out of trouble. Give me some time to figure out exactly what Walters is doing."

"Okay."

"Okay?" Peter repeated in surprise.

"You beat Agent Walters once, you can do it again. He isn't half the Agent you are. But you have to promise to ask for my help when you need it."

"I will." Peter agreed. "I have to admit that I'm a little surprised how well you're taking all of this."

"You did what you had to, I understand that."

"I have to get going. Remember, stay out of trouble."

"Don't worry about me. Worry about keeping your job. If you get fired I get sent back to prison."

"Good point."

Peter turned to leave, feeling better that he and Neal had talked. He'd had orders not to tell Neal about the painting, but he couldn't be blamed for Neal figuring it out on his own. Peter just hoped that Neal kept to his word and stayed out of trouble today. Slipping on his jacket Peter grabbed his keys and went to head out the door.

"Peter?" Neal called out from the patio.

"Yes?"

"Good luck."

"Thanks."

Getting to the Federal Building Peter showed himself to Walters' office. Knocking on the door Peter waited for permission to enter. Walters was sitting at his desk working on his computer. He continued what he was doing for a few minutes, making Peter wait. It was a childish ploy that Peter countered by not letting it annoy him.

"Burke, glad you could make it."

"I want to see these forgeries." Peter said bluntly.

"Of course. They are still running the computer analysis on the art fingerprinting, but you are the Caffrey expert perhaps you'll recognize the work of your 'partner'. Is he getting suspicious of your little trip?"

Peter ignored Walters baiting him into an argument and ignored the question. Walters lead Peter to the conference room where he had the paintings laid out on the large table. There were seven paintings in all. Peter didn't have to look at them very closely before turning to Walters.

"You're kidding me, right?" Peter asked.

"Not at all."

"Half these paintings aren't even of stolen works."

"So?"

"So the whole point of a forgery is to be able to sell it as the real thing, if the real one is famous and hanging in a museum somewhere no one is going to believe you. These haven't been aged either, even an amateur collector would know these aren't real."

"We all have to start somewhere."

"You think these are practice pieces?" Peter asked confused. "I hate to be the one to break it to you, but there is nothing particularly illegal about copying another artist's work if you don't try to turn around and sell it."

"If we can prove that we have seven works by Caffrey's hand then we can use the art fingerprinting to analyze some more 'professional' works in evidence."

"Why are you so convinced that these are his work?"

"An anonymous source."

"Anonymous? Right, because Neal doesn't have any enemies that would love to see him locked up on art forgery charges."

"We believe the intel is good."

"And I believe your case against Neal is paper thin."

"Most cases start that way." Walters shrugged. "Haven't you ever just had a gut feeling about someone's guilt?"

"There is something else going on here that has nothing to do with these paintings. These paintings were just an excuse to get him across State lines. What's the real angle?"

"I'm not authorized to discuss that with you."

"You're such a pain in my ass, Walters."

"You really want to help?" Walters asked suddenly. "What can you tell me about this woman."

Walters went over to a file that had been sitting at the end of the table. Peter took the file and opened it. He was surprised to find a picture of Sara next to a standard F.B.I file on her. Briefly reading the file there wasn't anything there that Peter didn't already know.

"Do you know her?"

"You know that I do. Sara Ellis, insurance investigator for Sterling-Bosch. What about her?"

"How long has this being going on..."

Walters turned the first page of the file over to reveal a series of surveillance photos of Neal and Sara engaged in a deep kiss at the Smithsonian. Peter did a good job hiding his irritation with Neal for getting caught on camera being overly friendly with Sara in a public place. Peter was a little disturbed that Neal hadn't mentioned that he'd run into Sara here in DC, but the fact that he came home nearly two hours after this picture was taken told him why. Neal was not the kind to kiss and tell, a fact that Peter greatly appreciated.

"Well?" Walters demanded.

"What?"

"How long have Caffrey and Ellis being sleeping together?"

"I have no idea." Peter replied honestly. "It's none of my business who Neal decides to be romantic with."

"You're joking, right? A con artist and an insurance investigator get together and you don't see a recipe for disaster?"

"You think they're running scams together? Neal doesn't have time to be running scams on the side. Have you seen our case clearance rate lately?"

"So you've never suspected them of anything?"

"No."

"Okay, thank you for your help." Walters said as he took the file back.

Peter stared at Walters icily. Walters smiled patronizingly back at him. Walters left the room, taking the file with him. Alone with the paintings Peter took another look at them. He hated to admit it, but he could see Neal's hand being behind them, particularly if they were ten years or more old. The raw talent was evident in the painting, they were just missing the years of learned skill that made any true forger great.

Coming to one of the larger paintings, a Monet depicting water lilies, Peter inspected it once more. Looking carefully Peter noticed a rusty stain on the corner of the painting. He lightly brushed at it, a small amount flaked off easily. Taking his handkerchief out of his pocket Peter touched it to his tongue to get it damp and then gently rubbed it against one of the flake that had come off. Rehydrated the stain that came off on the white cloth was a bright ruby red.

"Blood..."


	6. Chapter 6

White Collar: The Eye of Sita

Chapter Six

After Peter left Neal spent some time deciding what his next move should be. He knew that if Art Crimes really did have something on him concerning the Nazi treasure that he should be trying to figure out the quickest way out of DC. He had not come unprepared, the false back of his suitcase held all the ID and cash he'd need for a hasty departure. Neal took out his cell phone and thought about calling Mozzie.

"Let's not over react just yet." Neal said to himself as he put the phone away again.

Feeling trapped in the luxury hotel Neal went into his room. Opening the secret compartment on the suitcase he pulled out the new passport that Mozzie had gotten him. It was a brand new allis that had been cultivated by an ID pharmer for years. It was bulletproof, a new life, a new start, a new person.

"I did it once, I could do it again."

Unsure if he meant the words he'd said Neal slipped the passport into his breast pocket. He left the cash behind. The passport was in case of an emergency, it was the one piece that was not easily replaced. Cash was something he could get just about anywhere. It was a risk to walk around with the passport, but at this point the greater risk seemed to be in not having it readily available.

Needing a distraction from the fact that he might not be returning Neal wandered across the Mall to the National Gallery of Art. The masterpieces on display quickly cleared Neal's thoughts of what the future held. Eventually Neal found himself standing in front of 'Before the Ballet' by Degas. He hated the fact that he enjoyed looking at the one locked up in the storage unit more. There was an added thrill when looking at the stolen Degas that this public display couldn't match.

"See something you like?"

Neal looked over at the middle aged woman who had just addressed him. A quick look at her apparel and the glimpse of a lanyard in her collar told him that she worked here. Neal smiled at her, but she remained cold.

"I was just admiring Degas' use of negative space."

"As long as you keep your hands to yourself."

"Excuse me?"

"I know who you are, Mr. Caffrey. I have been in charge of security here for fifteen years."

"I'm not here to cause any trouble."

"I can't officially tell guests they aren't welcome here, but I can inform you that you will be watched closely."

"I do love a challenge." Neal smiled.

"Is that a threat?"

"No. It was a joke."

The older woman clearly didn't find the humor in the situation. When she told Neal that he was going to be watched carefully she was not exaggerating. She stood near by and stared at his every move for the next few hours. Years of having his every move tracked by the F.B.I had made him pretty much numb to watching eyes.

As the day passed Neal made his way out of the Gallery of Art without incident and made his way over to the Smithsonian. Whoever was in charge of security at the Smithsonian didn't seem as concerned to have Neal wandering around. Just another tourist in the crowd Neal went back to the gem display.

The gem collection was just as attention holding this time as the first. It was later in the afternoon and the museum was busy. A few buses worth of middle school kids were running around the various displays, having more fun with hide and seek than learning about rocks. Neal noticed that the Hope Diamond display was open now.

The display was in the middle of a small room with more jewels in cases lining the walls. At night the entire room became a vaulted safe. Neal stepped up to the famous jewel and furrowed his brow. Something about the stone seemed wrong the instant he looked at it. Despite being beautiful the large blue gem didn't sparkle quite enough for a diamond and held a little too much fire. Neal shook his head to try and clear it. There was no reason to believe the stone wasn't real, and even the most trained gemologists needed more than a naked eye look at a stone to determine if it was real.

"Still...something seems wrong." Neal muttered as he looked closer.

"Impressed?" A deep voice suddenly whispered in Neal's ear.

Neal nearly jumped out of his own skin. Beyond being unexpected the voice had sparked a memory that Neal had long tried to forget. He instantly turned towards the voice, but the speaker was already gone. Neal searched the crowd, but he didn't recognize anyone. Instantly forgetting the diamond Neal went on the hunt for the owner of the voice. The distinctive Texan twang to the man's voice had firmly tied a knot in Neal's stomach.

Whoever had spoken to him had blended perfectly into the busy museum crowd. The kids running around were being chased by weary chaperons as the other visitors pointed at displays and chatted casually with one another. Giving in Neal put his hands in his jacket pockets to look for his phone. Neal's fingers brushed against something that turned his blood to ice. With his heart racing Neal tried to walk calmly to the nearest exit.

No one stopped Neal as he stepped out of the museum and out onto the grassy Mall. Neal walked briskly over to a small group of trees before reaching into his pocket again. Neal looked around anxiously before pulling the out of place object out into the sun. Neal looked down at his hand and his breath hissed across his teeth.

Unsure of what to do Neal started walking aimlessly. He knew that every second that went by that he didn't go straight to Peter was just going to make things worse. At the same time going to his friend might be a waste of time. Neal continued to pace through the monuments of DC without seeing any of them.

It wasn't until the sun started to set that Neal realized how long he had been trying to figure out what to do. Reaching into his breast pocket Neal froze when he discovered that his passport was missing. Neal looked once more at what the pick pocket had left behind while lifting his passport.

"Drop my guard for five seconds, and this is what I get."

Finally making a decision Neal reoriented himself so that he could head back to the hotel. He wouldn't be surprised if he was back behind bars before morning, but running now would just confirm what everyone was going to soon be suspecting. Neal didn't mind being accused of crimes he'd actually had the privilege of committing, but he hated trying to defend himself from a set up. He kept going through the names of enemies he'd made over the years, but one name kept coming up.

"Not possible." Neal muttered to himself.

Neal kept trying to run through other scenarios as he walked back to the hotel. Whoever had talked to him had been right, he was impressed. Stealing the Hope Diamond was long considered impossible. Safe in the Smithsonian it was unreachable, however, the stone had been out of the museum's thick walls recently while it was being placed back in its original setting.

"And where else does it go to get reset?" Neal asked rhetorically. "My own backyard."

The stone would have been in New York at the Harry Winston Jewelers for the change. Neal tried to remember exactly what he'd been doing over the past week and realized that he had been off his anklet for several days during an undercover assignment. He briefly wondered if whoever was working this had known that.

Wishing he had just stayed in New York where he belonged Neal arrived at the hotel. Coming to the door he could hear Peter talking with someone. Feeling cautious Neal held his breath and held his ear to the door to hear the conversation better. When he heard Sara's voice he remembered that he had promised her dinner.

Neal stepped into the room with an apologetic smile. Peter and Sara were sitting across from one another at the large glass coffee table, having just finished dinner. The set up suggested something having been brought up from the kitchen. Peter looked up with a brief look of concern that he quickly concealed in a wry smile.

"Your date was hungry...so we got room service."

"Sorry, Neal," Sara apologized "I really was starving."

"Sara tells me you've yet to take her out on a proper date." Peter admonished.

"The last time I tried you 'commandeered' it." Neal accused.

"Oh right, if I recall correctly you were the one who got me in that mess to start with." Peter said. "So I don't hold much guilt over what happened."

"And in all fairness I did have fun." Sara chuckled.

"You two kids should go off and find dessert somewhere." Peter suggested.

"Actually I'm not feeing particularly well." Neal said truthfully.

"Neal?" Sara asked in concern.

"I'll be okay, just tired."

"Oh, alright." Sara said as she got to her feet. "I should go."

"Thank you. I'll call you later."

Sara walked up to Neal, but at the last moment she decided to keep her distance and stepped around him to reach the door. Neal though briefly about going after her to apologize, but at this point he was fairly certain that a simple 'sorry' wasn't going to be enough. Peter got up from his place on the couch and walked over.

"Neal, you're going to lose Sara if you keep this up. She's already confused on where you two stand with each other."

"That makes both of us." Neal admitted. "Let's take a walk, we can talk about it."

"You want to talk to me about a relationship of yours?" Peter asked doubtfully.

"Is that so hard to believe?"

"Yes it is."

"Then let's just say I need some fresh air." Neal looked around at the few places that he already knew had bugs listening in.

"That I can believe." Peter nodded.

Peter didn't ask any questions as they made their way out of the hotel. It was dark out, but the city was so full of lights that it was barely different than broad daylight. Neal lead Peter across the Mall and over to the steps of the closed Smithsonian. Neal looked around, there were a few tourists walking by, but no one who looked like they cared about two men meeting outside a museum.

"Neal, you're making me nervous."

"I need you to promise me that you're going to listen to me and not instantly arrest me."

"Now I'm really nervous. I don't like it when you start conversations like this." Peter replied. "I thought I told you to stay out of trouble."

"I tried, it found me."

"Of course it did. You're like a super electromagnet for trouble. Sometimes I wonder why I even try with you."

"Peter, promise me."

"Fine, I promise not to arrest you instantly. I can't be held responsible for what I do ten seconds after that."

"I guess that will have to do."

Neal put his hand in his jacket pocket and looked around once more. Bringing his hand out in a fist he turned his hand palm side up and opened it. Peter instinctively took a step away from the high quality diamonds that Neal had just revealed. Even in the artificial light of the street lights the clear flawless diamonds glittered brightly. There were sixteen mid sized diamonds, half pear-shaped, the other half cushion cut. There was also a very sizable black stone with a radiant cut. Neal tensed when it looked like Peter was reaching for his back pocket to get his hand cuffs. However Peter was just putting his hands on his hips and counting to ten in his head.

"Peter..."

"Neal, why do you have a handful of diamonds?" Peter asked sternly.

"I didn't steal them." Neal said quickly.

"Did you buy them?"

"No."

"Were they a gift?"

"Sort of. Someone put them in my pocket as a message."

"Expensive message." Peter said, clearly trying his hardest to remain calm. "What's with the black rock?"

"It's a black diamond." Neal corrected.

"What's the message?"

"There is a Tibetan belief that when you die your deeds are weighed out on a scale in stones, the black stones are for evil deeds, the white stones are for your good deeds."

"Well there is only one black rock." Peter pointed out. "So they must not know you very well."

"The weight of the black stone does not even come close to being outweighed by the white ones."

"Neal..."

"There's more." Neal interrupted. "I don't think they are just any diamonds."

"What do you think they are?"

"I...uh...I think they are the sixteen colorless diamonds that surrounded the Hope Diamond."

"That's impossible, if that were true it would mean that the Hope Diamond has been stolen. ...Please tell me that hasn't happened."

"'That hasn't happened'."

"That didn't make me feel better the way I thought it would."

"That's because you know it was a lie."

"Neal, no..."

"I'm sorry, Peter, I believe the Hope Diamond has been stolen."

"By someone you know." Peter stated in frustration.

"Or at the very least by someone who knows me."

Peter sighed heavily in the manner that he always did when things started going from bad to worse. Neal stood with the diamonds and just waited for Peter to ask the obligatory questions. Peter hesitated before taking a step closer and narrowing his eyes as he stared down Neal.

"I have to ask Neal..."

"I didn't take it."

"Do you know who did?"

"No. I have a few ideas, but I don't have a name."

"Alright, give me the stones."

"Are you going to take them to Walters?" Neal asked as he handed over the stones.

"I don't know what I'm going to do...we already had enough problems before this happened."

"Maybe if we just ignore the problem someone else might take care of it." Neal smiled.

"That's actually not a bad plan." Peter mused.

"I was joking."

"I'm not."

"Peter?"

"I'm not the only Agent in the Bureau. It might be best, for both of us, to let someone else handle this case."

"That'll never work."

"Why not?"

"Because you and I both know they are going to need our help to solve this one. Plus we can't just let a National Treasure disappear."

"When did you suddenly become the voice of my conscious?"

"Since you started ignoring evidence."

"You're just annoyed that there's a jewelry thief out there better than you."

"Maybe a little."


	7. Chapter 7

White Collar: The Eye of Sita

Chapter Seven

"Sara?"

When Neal and Peter returned to the hotel Sara was waiting for the elevator. She turned as Neal called her name and flushed with a hint of embarrassment.

"I forgot my purse." Sara admitted. "It has my hotel key in it."

"Sorry, I kind of chased you away."

"It's okay...you feeling better?"

"Uh..."

"I think I'll take the stairs." Peter announced and quickly made an exit.

Neal wasn't sure if he was grateful for Peter leaving them alone or not. An uncomfortable silence fell over the pair as they continued to wait for the elevator. Sara shifted her weight uneasily as the silence stretched on. Neal was about to apologize when the elevator arrived. Sara hurried onto the elevator and Neal followed. Once the door closed he reached out and gently brushed the back of Sara's arm with his fingertips to get her attention. Sara turned to face him and forced a smile.

"Sara, I'm really sorry." Neal apologized again. "Something came up and had to talk to Peter."

"It's okay, Neal, really. I always knew that you and Peter were kind of a package deal."

"Package deal?"

"Can't take one without the other." Sara chuckled.

"As long as I'm wearing the anklet I suppose that's true."

"I think it will always be true."

Neal took a breath to protest, but Sara stepped in close and stopped him with a friendly kiss. Neal reached up and carded his hand into her wavy hair to keep her from stepping away. Sara didn't resist as Neal rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes for a moment. Stressed from the events of the day Neal just enjoyed the simple touch.

"Neal?" Sara asked softly. "Is something wrong?"

"Can I stay with you tonight?"

"With me? What about Peter?"

"He won't mind."

"...Okay." Sara agreed hesitantly.

"Thank you." Neal pulled away as the elevator opened on their floor. "Hold the elevator, I'll go get your purse."

Sara waited by the elevator while Neal slipped down the hall. Peter made no protests about Neal leaving for the night. He mentioned that he trusted Sara more than most when it came to keeping him out of trouble. Neal returned to Sara with her purse and they walked across the Mall to where she was staying.

Sara offered Neal some red wine and they settled down on the couch together to share a drink. Sara seemed a little distant at first, but after a few glassed she relaxed a bit. Neal put his back against the arm of the couch and stretched one leg out along the back so that Sara could lay down with her back against his stomach.

Neal wrapped one arm loosely around Sara's waist while absent mindedly running his free hand through her hair. Lost in thought he found some comfort in having her close, however, his uneasy tension was still obvious. Neal's thoughts were stuck on the large black diamond. There was only one event in his life that he would consider truly 'evil'. He had never managed to truly put it behind him, but until recently it had been shifted to the back of his mind.

"I've never known you to be so quiet." Sara broke the silence.

"Just thinking."

"About?"

"Nothing."

"Not thinking about diamonds?" Sara asked knowingly.

"Diamonds?"

"Don't even bother denying it, Neal." Sara warned gently. "You think I just wandered back towards my hotel after I left?"

"You followed us?"

"I'm an insurance investigator, it's what I do: investigate."

"What did you hear?"

"Everything." Sara admitted freely.

"So you know about the Hope Diamond?"

"Why else do you think I'm in DC?"

"Sterling-Bosch insures the Hope Diamond." Neal pieced together. "That' why you were at the Smithsonian. Trying to track down a lead."

"And I found one."

"If you heard Peter and I you know that I don't have it."

"But you have some ideas as to who might." Sara pressed. "Neal, I have to find that diamond."

"You'd earn enough to retire if you do, eh?"

"I certainly won't have to worry about money if I do, but that stone is worth more than just money, Neal. The NSA is getting involved."

"The National Security Agency? What do they have to do with a jewel theft?"

"It's not just any jewel. The Hope Diamond is famous for having the tightest security in the world. If someone can get a hold of the Hope, people will realize that nothing is safe. The media would go into an absolute frenzy if they knew the stone was missing."

"The Smithsonian knows it's a replica." Neal smiled. "They're helping in the cover up. I was wondering how the curators could be fooled by a forgery, and of course the best answer is that they weren't."

Sara sat up and turned around so that she could face Neal. Neal was contemplating the implications of the Smithsonian knowing about the theft. The new piece of information opened a whole new set of scenarios. Sara could see that Neal wasn't paying attention anymore and put her hand on his cheek to get his attention.

"Neal, I need to know who gave you those diamonds."

"I don't know."

"You're lying. I know you are. Peter knows it too, he's just more willing to play along with you than I am."

"Sara I don't know, honestly. I don't have any reason to protect whoever took the stone."

"I don't think you're protecting the thief, I think you're protecting yourself." Sara accused. "I don't know from what, but I think this thief knows more about you than you'd like."

"Sara..."

"Neal, I saw the look on your face when you came back, something had you spooked to the core. When you didn't show up for our dinner Peter tracked you, you left the Smithsonian and walked in aimless circles for hours. Peter tried to play it off, but I could see his concern. He tried to get me to leave, but I wasn't going anywhere. It was killing him to just sit there and politely offer me dinner while you continued to spiral. If you hadn't come back within the next five minutes he was going to give up on pretending everything was 'fine' and hunt you down."

Neal fell silent. Sara didn't look angry, but she looked like she could easily get there if given even the slightest excuse. He realized that he had underestimated her even though it was her intelligence that had drawn him to her in the first place. Neal reached out to take her hand. Sara allowed him to take her hand and hold it in his own.

"I need a little time to figure this out." Neal said. "I think I know who gave me the stones, but it doesn't make any sense."

"Why not?"

"Because they died a long time ago."

"You're trying to tell me that a ghost put the Hope setting diamonds in your pocket?" Sara asked doubtfully.

"No. I don't believe in ghosts, but I think someone wants me to. I don't have a name, that I swear. I've already asked Peter for help, so you know that I'm not trying to hide."

"Just because you went to Peter doesn't mean that you don't have a secret agenda. I know you, Neal."

"You want to know why I was walking in circles?"

"Why?"

"Because I was trying to decide if I wanted to deal with this mystery person or if I should just run away."

"Why did you come back?"

"I'm tried of running." Neal said simply.

Sara gave Neal a distrustful look, she clearly didn't believe him. She pulled her hand away and folded them on her lap. Neal hadn't been sure of his feelings for her before, but now that she was pulling away from him he discovered it hurt far more than he thought it would. Unlike Kate she didn't want anything to do with his criminal side. She expected better of him, even though she knew she probably wasn't going to get it.

Neal suddenly realized that she had no reason to believe him. There was one huge lie that was constantly between them. If he ever expected her to trust him, he was going to have to trust her first. When he tried to touch her again she leaned away and got to her feet. He got up as well, but kept his distance.

"Neal, I'm sorry, I think you should leav..."

"I stole the Raphael." Neal said suddenly.

"Wha...what?"

"The Raphael, 'Saint George and the Dragon'. The one that you were so convinced that I stole. I did. I was desperate to get Kate's attention and she loved that painting so I took it in hopes that she would know I was back in New York. The fact that she knew and didn't try to find me should have told me something, but that's another story."

"Where is it now?"

"I don't know. Lost somewhere in the black market."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you're important to me. Because I want you to believe me, I want your trust. I want you to see that I'm trying my hardest to earn more white diamonds."

"I...uh...I don't know what that means."

Neal could see that rather than bringing her closer his sudden confession was just alienating her further. His heart was racing painfully, telling Sara about the Raphael was one of the riskiest things he'd done in a very long time. He could see that Sara was thinking about her options, she turned away from him before hesitating and turning back to face him.

"You really piss me off some times, Neal."

"I know."

"I don't understand you, and I don't understand why I can't just label you a 'criminal' and move on with my life."

"Does that mean you're willing to give me a little more time before you make any decisions?"

"I want so much to believe that you can be a good man."

"That makes two of us."

Sara was caught a little off guard by Neal's response. Neal was exhausted in every sense of the word and was wondering if he should ask if he could sleep on the couch or if he should just go back to his own hotel. Before he could make a decision his phone rang. Automatically looking at it, he saw that it was Peter calling. Even though he knew it was not going to help things with Sara Neal knew it had to be important and he had to answer.

"Peter?" Neal answered.

Neal listened to what Peter had to say without interrupting him. The news did not come as a surprise to Neal, even if the timing could be better.

"I'll be there in ten minutes." Neal assured Peter as he hung up.

"What's going on?" Sara asked.

"I have to go."

"What?"

"I'm being arrested."

"Come again?" Sara asked in surprise.

"Walters came to the hotel room to arrest me."

"For what?"

"I'm not really sure. All I know is that it has nothing to do with the Hope Diamond. This is some sort of political pissing match between Walters and Peter."

"So...you're just going to willing allow Walters to take you in?"

"That's the plan." Neal smiled. "I don't want to keep him waiting, it will just make him harder to deal with."

Sara looked to be in shock. Neal took the opportunity to close the space between them and kiss her cheek. She didn't return the affection, but she didn't pull away or strike him either. Neal figured that it was progress since he knew that she could easily best him in a fight if she wanted to.

"I'll take you out to dinner soon, I swear, but I have to take care of this first."

"Just so we're clear, if you end up back in prison I haven't decided yet if I'll wait for you or not."

"Don't worry, you won't have to make that decision just yet." Neal assured. "This isn't anything serious."

"How can you know that?"

"Because if it was Peter would have come here and arrested me himself."


	8. Chapter 8

White Collar: The Eye of Sita

Chapter Eight

"You just trust him to walk over here?" Walters demanded.

"If he hasn't bolted from me over the past three years he certainly isn't going to run from you now."

"I would rather have not given him the opportunity."

"At least this gave him a chance to get dressed."

"What?"

"He's with Sara Ellis, figure it out for yourself."

Walters finally fell silent. He had been furious when he'd learned that Peter had let Neal just leave for the night. Peter had done his best to push the arrest back until tomorrow, but Walters wanted to bring Neal in right now and wasn't going to take 'no' for an answer.

It took Neal about twenty minutes to make it from Sara's back over to the hotel. Walters and Peter spent most of the time staring at one another in tense silence. Walters had brought one other Agent along as back up. The younger Agent seemed mostly disinterested in the meeting and stood to one side with hands held together loosely in front. He looked like he had been part of the Secret Service at some point. Eventually Neal arrived, he looked over the scene and smiled.

"Agent Walters," Neal greeted as he held his hand out for Walters to shake "good to finally meet you."

"Neal Caffrey," Walters reached out as though he was going to shake Neal's hand, but ended up slapping a metal cuff around Neal's wrist "you're under arrest for suspicion of forgery."

"Walters," Peter protested "are the cuffs really necessary? He walked over her willing to be arrested, he's not a threat."

"Protocol, Burke, some of us still believe in it."

"It's okay, Peter, I don't mind."

Peter backed down, but he still wasn't very happy about any of this. Walters was just hassling Neal to make life more difficult for them both and to experience a power rush. Neal turned his back to Walters so that he could secure the other cuff. Peter was getting more agitated by the second, however Neal seemed perfectly calm. Walters took Neal by the elbow to lead him away and Peter followed.

"What are you doing, Agent Burke?" Walters asked.

"I'm coming with you."

"You can come to the Federal Building, but you are not welcome in my interrogation."

"You really are determined to make this as difficult as possible, aren't you?"

"You're too close to my suspect, I can't have you interfering."

"Fine." Peter said. "Neal, I'll come talk to you afterwards."

"Okay."

Peter furrowed his brow as Walters continued to lead Neal away. Neal was uncharacteristically quiet. Peter had expected Neal to have at least half a dozen witty remarks for Walters all set and ready. However Neal didn't even ask what he was being accused of forging.

Walters took Neal to the Federal Building in his own car. Not interested in sharing a ride Peter drove himself. Once there Walters made it clear again that Peter wasn't allowed anywhere near the interrogation. Frustrated Peter was left in the main office. It was around eight o'clock and everyone had gone home. Peter was startled when Jack from janitorial suddenly appeared.

"Agent Burke?" Jack asked with a smile.

"Hey, Jack. How are the kids?"

"Graduating college, and yet not leaving the house."

"Ouch."

"I think it will be easiest for my wife and I to just move out and leave the house to them." Jack chuckled. "What are you doing here?"

"Walters is interrogating a friend of mine."

"I don't like that guy, he doesn't separate his recyclables." Jack huffed. "Do you want me to let you into the observation room?"

"I don't want to get you in trouble, Jack."

"No trouble. It's sound proof with a one way mirror. Walters will never know you're there."

"Thank you, that would be great."

Jack smiled and lead Peter back to the interrogation room observation room. He had keys to most of the rooms and unlocked the door. Peter stepped in and saw that Walters was already hassling Neal about the paintings. He had taken Neal out of the cuffs and had four of the paintings, including the Monet, spread out on the table in front of where he was sitting. Walters was standing to make himself look more menacing.

"Well, Caffrey?"

"Well what?"

"I have evidence that these paintings were done by your hand."

"Really?"

Neal looked at the paintings with mild interest. Peter noticed that Neal paused when his eyes fell on the Monet. There had been a flash of some strong emotion, but it was gone so quickly that Peter couldn't figure out if it had been fear, anger, or just nostalgia. Neal kept looking at the works.

"Just say you want a lawyer, Neal." Peter said from behind the sound proof mirror. "He can't question you without one if you ask and you know that."

"Caffrey?" Walters pressed.

"I'm sorry, Agent Walters, I'm just a little disappointed."

"Disappointed?" Walters asked.

"I thought the F.B.I knew me better than this. This is half rate work, something I'd expect to see on a motel wall. I'm a little insulted that you think I did this."

Neal looked up at Walters with a bright amused smile. Walters did not share Neal's amusement. He picked up a file off the edge of the desk and leafed through it. Peter watched as Walters dragged over another chair and sat down. The fact that he put the chair on the side of the table near Neal rather than sitting across from him told Peter that Walters was about to switch tactics.

"I looked at your record, four years in Federal Supermax prison without a single incident."

"Well, except for that fairly serious one at the end." Neal pointed out with a touch of pride.

"Right, that was an impressive break out, but then you made no resistance to recapture."

"I had found what I was looking for." Neal replied simply.

"Still none of this explains why you not only were set to serve your full sentence, but that now you have to do it again."

"They couldn't just ignore the fact that I broke out."

"Where are you going with this, Walters?" Peter said anxiously.

"No," Walters continued "but I've seen murderers given immunity and set free for assisting the F.B.I even a fraction as much as you have over the past three years. You never thought it odd that as a first time offender you never came up for early parole?"

"The thought crossed my mind once or twice." Neal admitted.

"Neal...can I call you 'Neal'?" Walters asked politely.

"Sure."

"Woah, wait, this isn't how this works." Peter complained to no one behind the mirror. "You can't be the Bad Cop and the Good Cop."

"Neal, why were you sentenced to Supermax in the first place? You were locked up with serious criminals: murderers, armed robbers, kidnappers, rapists...true scum. What made a twenty-something year old bond forger worthy of being cast in with that lot?"

"I'm not really sure."

"You know exactly why." Peter said in surprise. "And you know I fought to reduce that to a medium security environment."

"White Collar criminals usually end up in minimum security prison, kinda like a day spa where they lock the front gate."

"I guess I was a bit of a flight risk."

"True. However, I can tell you that you ended up in Supermax specifically on Agent Burke's recommendation."

"That is not true." Peter growled from his place in the observation room.

"Peter told them I deserved that?" Neal asked in a hurt tone.

"This is just a game to you, isn't Caffrey?" Peter sighed. "You are loving ever second of toying with Walters."

"He didn't want his prize fish getting away." Walters said. "You know I'm surprised you even survived. Violence, particularly rape is a big problem there, and you're...handsome."

"I had the financial resources to afford the right kind of protection." Neal shrugged. "I never had to worry about dropping the soap or anything if that's what you're getting at."

"Do you still have that kind of wealth now? Four years of protection must have been expensive. What would happen to you now if you wound up back behind bars?"

"Are we going somewhere with this conversation?" Neal asked. "I'm starting to get the feeling that you're a little disappointed that I don't have any traumatic rape stories to share with you. Which I'm finding more than a little disturbing."

"My point is: Agent Burke has been using and abusing you for years to further his own career."

"That's not true." Peter said indignantly.

"I don't know, Agent Walters," Neal replied doubtfully "Peter has been very good to me over the years."

"What would you say if I told you I could have you out of that anklet within forty-eight hours?"

"I'd ask what the catch is."

"You and I both know that Burke has skirted and bent the law for his own purposes in the course of his work. How many times has he looked the other way while you've blatantly broken the law? All to get a better case clearance record."

"You want me to bring down Peter in exchange for my own freedom? No thank you. I only have a year left."

"You think Burke is just going to let you go?" Walters chuckled. "Wake up, Kid. He's nothing without you."

"That's not true."

"Take a look at his case statistics before and after his deal with you. On paper he was an okay Agent, but with you he's a great Agent. He's not just going to give that up."

"He'll have to." Neal said with a hint of anger. "I'm not property, once my sentence is up I can go and do whatever I want."

"Unless you end up with another conviction. In that case you'll once again have the choice between showering with large violent men and being Peter's pet."

"You son of a bitch." Peter snarled. "This is what all this has been about the whole time. You're not trying to convict Neal, you're trying to flip him on me."

"Do you know how I figured out that these paintings are yours?" Walters asked calmly. "Have you heard of Art Fingerprinting?"

"I've heard of it." Neal said with little interest. "But you'd need a known painting of mine to even begin."

"I have one."

"What?"

Peter wished that Neal would just stop pretending to fall for Walters' trap and just demand a lawyer or something. Walters went over to the door and asked for something. The young Agent from before handed him a rolled up canvas which he brought over and opened on the table in front of Neal.

Peter was glad that he had come clean about taking the painting. Even though he knew that the look of betrayed shock on Neal's face was an act it still turned Peter's stomach to see it. Neal reached out slowly and gently touched the painting, as if he had to feel it to believe that it was real.

"Whe...where did you get this?" Neal demanded.

"Agent Burke gave it to us. He didn't tell you?"

Neal just shook his head in numb shock. Peter's blood flashed to ice when he noticed the unfocused look that suddenly clouded Neal's bright eyes.

"Oh no, don't you dare, Neal." Peter growled. "Don't even think about it. Neal, do *not* cry..."

Peter closed his eyes and shook his head sadly as tears streaked down Neal's face. Neal was staring at the stolen painting as though hypnotized by it. He reached up and angrily brushed away the few tears that had spilled.

"And the award for best dramatic performance goes to..." Peter sighed heavily.

Walters watched him like a vulture watches an injured animal. He came closer and put his hand on Neal's shoulder for support. Neal looked up at Walters and flashed him a sad smile. Looking like a lost child Neal turned his attention back to the painting.

"I thought I could trust him. I thought we were partners."

"I'm sorry, Neal." Walters said sympathetically. "Peter's vicious when it comes to his career, it's how he got to be where he is now."

"I guess deep down I've always known that." Neal added.

"Neal, help me and I'll make sure you're out of that tracking anklet for good."

"Before I say anything, I want everything you're offering me in writing."

"Of course. Our lawyers will be in tomorrow morning, I'll have them draft up a contract."

"Can I go back to my girlfriend's for tonight or do I have to stay here?"

"I'll go get one of me people to give you a ride."

"Thank you."

"Thank you, Mr. Caffrey."

Peter just shook his head as Walters left. As soon as the door was closed Neal's face lit up with a bright smile. He was clearly pleased with himself. Peter briefly wondered how Neal would have reacted if that had been the first time he learned of the painting. Something told him that Neal would have been angry, but he doubted that he would have turned on him.

Peter was about to leave the observation room when Neal's actions caught his attention. Neal had pulled the Monet painting closer and was staring at it. He reached out and gently touched the exact spot where Peter had found the blood the day before. Neal pushed the painting away and dragged his hands through his hair. Before Peter could decipher the odd behavior his phone rang.

"Burke." Peter answered.

"Peter, it's Diana."

"You're working late."

"I got a call from the lab guys, they were very interested in knowing where you found that blood sample you sent to me for testing."

"Did they find a match?"

"They did. The DNA matches a murder victim from Houston, Texas."

"Texas?"

"It's not a recent murder either, 1995."

"Neal would have been eighteen." Peter muttered to himself.

"Boss, there's more. You're never going to believe the victim's name."

"What is it?"

"Robert Caffrey." 


	9. Chapter 9

Note from the Phoenix: Thanks to ButtermilkCavalry for betta testing this difficult chapter for me and making a few key observations! Hugs.

* * *

><p>White Collar: The Eye of Sita<p>

Chapter Nine

By the time Peter was done questioning Diana about the DNA results Neal had been given a ride from the Federal Building. Walters and Neal both assumed that Peter had decided against hanging around. Alone in the office Peter was able to have Diana fax him a copy of the DNA testing and the original police report on Robert Caffrey's death. Peter read through the report with a critical eye.

"Sloppy work." Peter muttered in frustration. "The entire forensics team needs to be fired."

Peter leafed through the surprisingly slim report on the 1995 murder. The killer was identified as Daniel White. The report had very little to say about the killer or the victim. In fact the case report seemed to have no theories or statements about what had happened that night. However, one piece of information jumped right off the page.

"Robert Caffrey, found shot to death in his home by Daniel White, October eleventh, 1995...Neal's eighteenth birthday."

Not one to believe in coincidences Peter pulled out his cell phone and called Diana.

"Hey, Boss. Did Neal have a good explanation?"

"I haven't talked to him yet." Peter admitted. "I need to know what happened to this 'Daniel White'."

"Sorry, Boss, the rest of the report and the records on Daniel White are all sealed."

"I don't care how you do it, get those records unsealed."

"You got it."

Ending the call Peter put his cell phone back in his pocket and fished out his car keys. On his way back to the hotel Peter debated on if he should confront Neal about the blood tonight, or if he should wait until he had the sealed records. Waiting would give him a better idea of the whole picture, but he wasn't sure if this could wait.

"He's probably at Sara's anyway and I shouldn't drag him away from her twice in one night."

Peter wanted Neal's relationship with Sara to succeed. He felt that Sara would be a good stabilizing force in Neal's life. Something to help him settle down in one place and reduce the temptation to continue any criminal activities. Peter had known Sara for years and knew she was not the kind of girl to stand for illegal activity or stolen gifts.

Getting to the hotel room Peter was surprised to find Neal sleeping soundly on the couch. He'd either been too tired to make it all the way to the bedroom, or he had tried to stay up waiting for Peter to come back and had fall asleep. Either was he was completely passed out.

Walking over to Neal Peter didn't have the heart to wake him up. He looked far too peaceful to be disturbed. Peter reached down, loosened Neal's tie and undid the top button to make him more comfortable. Going into the bedroom Peter pulled the comforter off the bed and brought it out to the living room. Covered in the thick blanket Neal seemed to settle deeper into a dreamless sleep.

Being wide awake Peter wandered out onto the patio and closed the door behind himself. He spent a few minutes searching the patio for any listening devices. Neal had already pointed out a few of them in the room itself. Peter wasn't sure if they were actually on or recording, but he decided against taking any chances. A full sweep of the patio didn't show up anything. Peter pulled out his cell phone once more and dialed Mozzie.

"Is Neal alright?" Mozzie answered anxiously.

"He's fine, Mozzie."

"Then why are you calling?" Mozzie demanded.

"I need some information."

"I'm sorry, you must have the wrong number. Good b..."

"Don't you dare hang up on me." Peter threatened. "Who is Robert Caffrey?"

"Robert? I have no idea. Neal doesn't have any brothers, and unless something has changed he doesn't have any children either, and I doubt he'd name a son 'Robert' even if he did."

"I don't have time for lies, secrets or jokes, Mozzie, this is extremely important."

"I've never heard the name. My best guess would be Neal's father."

"You don't know Neal's father's name?" Peter asked surprised.

"I never asked, he never told."

"Mozzie, please..."

"I honestly can't help you." Mozzie said in a tone that suggested he was telling the truth. "I know exactly as much about Neal's parents as you do."

"He's old enough to be Neal's father, but DNA says that Robert Caffrey is not related to Neal genetically. Could he be a step-father?"

"If Neal had a step-father he never mentioned him to me."

"You have to know something." Peter insisted.

"There is only one way to get Neal to talk about his past, Suit."

"What's that?"

"Torture."

"What?"

"I know all you Suits take water boarding classes. The hotel where you're staying must have a bath tub."

"Mozzie..."

"Slow, agonizing torture is the only thing that will get Neal to talk about his teenage years, and even then you only have a slim chance of getting anything useful out of him."

"Unlike you, where I have absolutely *zero* chance of getting anything useful."

"I am unbreakable." Mozzie said proudly.

"That's not what I meant."

"Peter, you know as well as I do that as far as Neal is concerned other than a birth certificate and a social security number he basically doesn't exist until his eighteenth birthday."

"Which leads me to my next question: is 'Caffrey' really Neal's name?"

"What do you mean?"

"What do you think I mean?" Peter growled in mounting irritation. "Is 'Neal Caffrey' an alias?"

"No." Mozzie said firmly. "Absolutely not."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Because the only way to get a real birth certificate and social security number is to take one from a child that died at birth and that is the one step too far that Neal absolutely refuses to take."

"So you've suggested it to him in the past?"

"Just trust me, 'Caffrey' is Neal's real name, it has to be."

"Has Neal ever mentioned a Daniel White?"

"Not that I can recall. What is going on?"

"I have no idea."

Peter hung up on Mozzie. It had been a long shot that Mozzie would have any useful information that he was going to be willing to share. Peter put his hand in his pocket and realized that he still had the diamonds there. With the new information he'd almost forgotten the problem with the Hope Diamond. He went into his bedroom and put the diamonds in the briefcase. Keeping the black diamond out he turned it over in his hand as he inspected it.

"I can't imagine these being worth anything."

Curious about the diamond's value Peter sat down on the bed and pulled out his laptop. Peter was surprised to find that the plain looking black diamonds often sold for close to or above white diamond prices. Assuming the stone was stolen Peter logged onto his Federal account and started searching for a report. It didn't take long to find it. He was surprised to find the stone used to be in New York. He and Neal had been busy on an embezzling case when the stone had been stolen. The case file for the diamond was probably sitting on Peter's desk waiting for him.

"The Kaala Diamond, also known as 'The Eye of Shiva', a fifty-nine carat radiant cut black diamond was reported stolen one week ago from a private collection in New York, New York." Peter read the report summary. "There are currently no leads on the theft, a diamond of this size and color would not be easy to resell and has most likely been cut into smaller stones. Appraised value at time of theft: 900,000$."

Holding the black stone in his hand Peter had no doubt that he was holding 'The Eye of Shiva'. He also had no doubt that both stones were taken by the same thief. What he didn't understand was why anyone would use such a valuable rock to send Neal a message. Peter also doubted that Neal didn't know the name of the person who gave it to him. Peter spent an hour researching the stone's history before he became tired enough to turn in for the night.

The next morning Peter woke early. When he went out into the living room Neal was still sleeping. Peter made a quick call to Diana, but she still didn't have the sealed records. Not sure how much information Walters had behind where the paintings had come from Peter decided that he needed to confront Neal about the other Caffrey today.

Knowing that Neal would never even begin to talk in the bugged hotel room Peter went downstairs to ask the front desk for a favor. Using his badge Peter managed to get the keys to the penthouse suite for the day. When he returned to the room Neal was sitting up. Leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees he was staring vacantly at the floor.

"Neal?"

Peter couldn't remember a time when he'd ever managed to sneak up on Neal, but he nearly jumped to his feet when Peter spoke. Recovering quickly Neal looked over and smiled. Peter noticed once again that Neal's smile was forced. The corners of his lips rose, but his eyes remained dull.

"Where did you go last night?" Neal asked.

"What?"

"You were gone after the interrogation and then you weren't here when I got back. I tried to stay awake, but I was really tired."

"I got lost on my way back."

"That's what your GPS is for, it works in DC just as well as in New York." Neal pointed out. "I found out what Walters really wants."

"I know. I was in the observation room. I saw the whole performance."

"It was good, wasn't it?" Neal chuckled.

"Award winning." Peter said dryly.

"Peter...what's wrong?" Neal asked suddenly as he got to his feet.

"What makes you ask?"

"You look like you want to say something, something I'm not going to like."

"How can you tell?"

"When you have bad news you always tighten your lips and put your hands on your hips knuckle side down in a fist rather than palm side down like normal."

Peter looked down and found that he did have his hands in fists on his hips rather than the more relaxed pose. Neal's keen observation skills never ceased to amaze. Taking his hands off his hips Peter looked around the room.

"We can't talk here, but I have somewhere that we can."

Understanding about the listening devices Neal nodded and followed Peter into the hall. Going to the elevator Peter used the key that the front desk had given him to allow him to push the button to the top floor penthouse. The elevator opened directly into the lavish room. Neal instantly started inspecting the upgraded room. While he was distracted Peter pulled out his smart phone and reset Neal's anklet. It was a setting that Neal didn't know about, it caused the anklet to beep out a warning if he went more than twenty feet from the phone.

"I take it the DEA doesn't own this room?"

"No, way out of even their price range." Peter said as he walked over to the love seat that was set up across from the couch. "Have a seat."

"Remember last night when you said I was making you nervous?" Neal asked rhetorically. "Now you're making me nervous."

"Just sit down."

"Peter, what is this about?" Neal asked, staying on his feet.

"Please, Neal, sit."

Neal still hesitated and looked around at all of the possible exits. The only real was out of the penthouse was the elevator, which didn't require a key to leave the same way it needed one to get in. Peter waited patiently and eventually Neal came over and sat on the edge of the couch. He was visibly tense with a wariness about him that reminded Peter of an abused dog, willing to come closer, but ready to run if he had to. It was so far from Neal's usual relaxed state that Peter started to have second thoughts about trying to talk about the blood now. Neal was already on high alert.

"Peter?" Neal asked when Peter didn't say anything.

"The Monet painting, the one of the Water Lilies...I found traces of blood on it."

The conversation was over before it even began. Neal's usually warm eyes turned to ice as his jawline sharpened from clenching his teeth. He got to his feet and went straight back to the elevator. A few feet from his goal Neal's anklet made a shrill sound. Startled Neal automatically took a step back and it fell silent again.

Neal tested his new range once more before turning a truly murderous glare on Peter. Keeping calm in hopes of salvaging the situation Peter waited for Neal to either sit back down or return to the elevator despite the noise. Neal stayed rooted to the floor while he made the decision. Eventually he returned to the couch and sat down. Crossing his arms over his chest Neal refused to make eye contact and just stared at the floor.

"Neal..."

"I want a lawyer."

"A lawyer?" Peter repeated in shock.

"You can't ask me any questions without a lawyer if I ask for one."

"Neal, this isn't an interrogation."

Clearly not convinced Neal continued to stare at the floor. Peter got the feeling that Neal would remain there motionless for hours if he had to. Trying to convince him that he wasn't looking to press any charges Peter took out his badge and tossed it onto the coffee table. Neal glanced at the universal symbol for their conversation being off the record but continued to stay silent.

"Neal, if I found the blood it is probably only a matter of time before Walters does. I want to help you, but I need to know what happened. I swear this conversation is just between you and me, strictly off the record."

"Don't make promises you can't keep."

"I'm not." Peter said honestly. "Who is Robert Caffrey?"

Peter might as well have just shot Neal through the chest. The name drained the color from Neal's face and physically stole his breath. Concerned by the violent reaction Peter leaned forward. Neal pulled back and looked over at the elevator before turning his attention back to the anklet.

Peter held his breath, praying that Neal wouldn't force him to draw his weapon. When Neal shifted his weight Peter's instinct caused him to bring his hand up into his jacket where his shoulder harness was. Neal saw the motion and stared at Peter in horror. Peter put his hand back down, but the damage had already been done.

Still locked in shock Neal was begining to pant for breath. Peter could swear that he could hear Neal's pulse racing until he realized it was his own heart pounding in his ears. Peter cused himself silent for reaching for his weapon. Any trust they had between them seemed to have disappeared in an instant. Neal's eyes brightened with unshed tears, but before any were shed he bowed his head in defeat.

"Are you afraid of me now?" Neal asked sadly.

"No. I'm sorry, it was just instinct."

"I wouldn't blame you if you were."

"I know you're not going to hurt me..."

"You can't know that."

Neal wrapped his arms over his stomach, looking like he was going to be sick. Peter was feeling nauseous himself. He wished there was something he could do to ease the obvious pain Neal was in. However it was too late to go back. If Neal wouldn't accept help now it would be too late later if Walters got a hold of any of this. Neal didn't look like he was anywhere near wanting to speak. Peter only had one card left to play.

"Neal," Peter said softly "is your real name 'Daniel White'?"

"No." Neal answered quietly.

"Who is Daniel?"

Neal just shook his head. He looked more unable rather than unwilling to talk. Peter gave Neal a few more minutes to think about answering. Looking completely shut down it didn't look like it was going to happen anytime soon.

"Neal, I wouldn't be asking you this if it wasn't important. I think there is a good chance that if you're not Daniel White that he is the one who sent Walters those paintings. He might be looking for revenge."

"No." Neal shook his head. "No, that's not possible."

"Why not?"

Once again Peter gave Neal time to answer. Eventually Neal looked up. He stared at Peter with an unreadable expression. He took a breath several times to say something, but each time he lost the courage to find his voice. Peter risked reaching out to rest his hand gently on Neal's arm in a silent show of support. A sad smile twitched at the corner of Neal's mouth, but it quickly faded.

"Neal?"

"Daniel's the reason I hate guns."

"I'm sorry, I don't understand."

"Daniel White is dead...I shot him."


	10. Chapter 10

Note from the Phoenix: I have avoided all promos for the next episodes of White Collar...so please avoid asking my opinion about them. No worries if you have already, just for the future, I like surprises. Thanks!

Oh and more hugs to ButterMilk, she forced me to make this chapter longer. Also she pointed out the difference between Sparkling Wine over in Europe and here in the USofA...apparently sugary 'wine coolers' do not classify as wine over there. Next thing you know she'll tell me that Budwiser isn't considered beer...wait...what? *whisper* *whisper* I don't know...how is American beer like making love in a canoe? It's *what* close to water? Ack! (sorry if you don't get the joke, I censored it)

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><p>White Collar: The Eye of Sita<p>

Chapter Ten

Stunned into deadly silence Peter sat back and tried to make sense out of his own racing thoughts. With his confession behind him Neal actually seemed to have calmed dramatically. Unwrapping his arms from his stomach he pulled his hands through his hair a few times. He leaned forward and rested his arms on his lap to support his weight. He hadn't fully regained his usual composure, but he was working on it.

Peter watched Neal's eyes track back and forth as he ran through whatever had happened in his mind. It was like watching a sleep walker, his eyes open but unfocused as they darted in a REM like pattern. He didn't seem afraid, it was more of a mournful expression. Neal wasn't offering any additional information, he was just working through his own thoughts while waiting patiently for Peter's reaction.

The more time passed the less sure Peter became as to what his reaction should be. He knew there had to be more to the story than cold blooded murder. Neal had also already proven to him with Fowler that he wasn't capable of killing for revenge. Although when Peter thought back he wondered how that scene would have played out if he hadn't been there to pull Neal back from the edge.

Peter leaned forward and picked his badge up off the table. He turned it over in his hands a few times. He knew he wasn't going to get another word from Neal if it wasn't still 'off the record'. However even as a civilian hearing a confession about a murder came along with certain responsibilities. Hearing such a story as a friend came with a completely different set of rules. Making a careful decision Peter put the badge back down and look to Neal.

"Are you sure you want to leave your badge on the table?"

"I am." Peter answered honestly.

"Thank you."

"So...does this mean I'm an now accessory to murder after the fact?"

"No."

Peter breathed an audible sigh of relief. Neal managed a sad smile. Needing a little more time to regather his thoughts Peter got to his feet and went to the nearby glass patio door. Neal got up as well, but only long enough to take off his shoes and resettle on the couch with his legs folded under himself.

It was barely nine am, but Peter was sudden in desperate need for a drink. It was early, but he had a feeling that this was going to be a very long day. Neal waited patiently on the couch while Peter went over to the large wet bar. He was a few steps away when Neal's anklet suddenly protested loudly. Peter took a step back in surprise and it fell silent again. He looked back over at Neal. Neal had been just as startled and looked over his shoulder at Peter before a genuine smile brightened his expression.

"Peter, did you tie me to your phone?"

"I did." Peter admitted.

"I didn't know you could do that. That's actually kind of clever."

"Thank you." Peter said drily.

Peter fished the phone out of his pocket and tossed it on the floor which was easier than resetting it at the moment. Raiding the mini fridge Peter found a bottle of imported beer and a bottle of some sort of sparkling wine cooler. Peter walked up to the back of the couch and gave Neal the beer bottle sized 'wine'. Neal looked doubtfully at the drink, he tended to distrust any alcohol that came with a twist top, but it was probably better than nothing at this point.

"Breakfast of champions, eh?" Neal chuckled as he accepted the offer.

"It's five o'clock somewhere." Peter shrugged.

Coming around to the front of the couch Peter followed Neal's lead and kicked his shoes off. He sat down on the couch next to Neal. Sitting by his side was a far less confrontational position than going back to the love seat across from him. Feeling a little guilty Peter used his foot to knock his badge off the coffee table so that he didn't have to look at it.

Neal held up his bottle and Peter clanked the bottom of his own beer against it in a mock toast before they took a drink. Neal made a face of disgust and forced himself to swallow the surprisingly sweet bubbly liquid. Peter on the other hand was impressed by the expensive import beer.

"Okay," Peter said after a deep breath "you ready to do this?"

"I think so."

"Right, can I start with a few quick questions?"

"Okay." Neal nodded.

"Accident or self-defense?"

"A little of both."

"Who is Daniel White?"

"My best friend."

"And Robert Caffrey?"

"He's harder to explain."

"Were you there the night he died?"

"I was."

"Is your name really 'Neal Caffrey'?"

"...sort of."

"Which part?"

"Neal, named after my grandfather."

Peter thought about the rapid answers for a minute and nodded. Taking a long pull on the strong beer he leaned back. Neal tried to drink more of the sweet drink, but he gave up on it after a second try and just held the bottle to give his hands something to do. It took Neal a few minutes to continue, but eventually he sighed and started.

"I suppose this won't make much sense if I don't start at the beginning."

"No, probably not."

"Are you sure we need to do this?" Neal complained. "I gave you the short version already. Isn't that enough?"

"If you want my help and/or protection from Walters when he finally smells the blood on that painting then I need the whole story."

"As I recall Walters is drafting up a deal for me as we speak." Neal pointed out.

"Do you really think you have enough dirt on me to get him to set you free?"

"I'm sure I could come up with something convincing."

"Neal, you're just stalling."

Neal took a breath to protest further, but Peter's expression told him that it wasn't going to work. Neal looked away and tried to find the words to start the long story. As much as he hated sharing his early years the rest of the story wouldn't make any sense. Neal tried the wine cooler again and remembered why he didn't drink such things.

"You promise not to mock or lord over me about any of this?"

"I wouldn't do that."

"Yes you would."

"Neal, I know this is serious." Peter assured.

"Okay, you already know some of the story. My father was a dirty cop, and he was killed when I was five. My mother on the other hand, she had gotten use to a certain kind of lifestyle and she wasn't willing to give it up. I never questioned how we afforded to live the way we did, it had always just been that way."

"Can I ask if this all happens in Texas?"

"Yes, indeedy." Neal replied in his natural Texas drawl.

"Explains your love of hats."

"I thought you said you weren't going to mock me."

"I'm sorry, and I interrupted. I apologize for both."

"It's okay." Neal said. "I was eleven when I found out the hard way just what was supporting us. She was dealing drugs."

"Drugs?"

"And I'm not talking about small quantities, she used the contacts my father had introduced her to and was managing warehouses of it. Mostly Mexican imports of marijuana." Neal stopped for a moment. "You know, when I was ten she grounded me for three weeks when she caught me and a friend of mine smoking a joint we'd gotten from a high schooler."

"Do as I say not as I do?"

"She wasn't a drug user, she just wasn't above making a living at it. Like I said, we had an expensive lifestyle. There's rich and then there's 'Texas Rich', and there is more than just oil money down there."

"So what happened?"

"DEA raid that lead back to her. She went to prison, I ended up in the foster system. Remember when I asked you if I wasn't my father's son, who am I? Well, being my mother's son isn't much better. When I told you that crime is in my blood, I really did mean it."

"I still don't believe in that." Peter said seriously. "Does this mean Robert Caffrey is an Uncle by marriage?"

"No, I have no other living family. I was placed in foster care with a wonderful couple that were understanding enough to take me once a week to visit my mother. I was moved out of the suburbs and into downtown Houston. I didn't like the big city at first, but I quickly learned that it had a lot of advantages that the suburbs didn't have. Same can't really be said of public school."

"Changing school even in the best of circumstances is never easy."

"I was was borderline bored in private school, I was extremely bored in public school, as you already know I didn't even finish. However, I was eleven, so it was a really easy age to make new friends."

"No, Neal." Peter corrected with a slight eye roll. "It's a horrendous age to even hold on to old friends let alone make new ones in a new environment."

"Really?"

"Really. You just have a talent for it. Ages ten through eighteen were extremely difficult for the rest of us."

"I had no idea."

"I have a feeling that you have no idea about a lot of the struggles that most people deal with. Do you even remember a time that you've been socially awkward?"

"Not really." Neal admitted.

"I bet you were a lot of trouble in school." Peter smiled.

"I know you'll find this hard to believe, but I really didn't cause much trouble. Although I had one bad habit."

"Let me guess: stealing."

"No. Graffiti."

"Graffiti?" Peter repeated in surprise.

"Were else is an artistically talented kid in Texas going to focus his energy? You think I would have been caught dead doing oil paintings of water lilies?"

"Good point. So, graffiti...I take it that you weren't just going around spraying swear words on the underside of bridges."

"I was not. I was doing full murals. From the start I had a love of the Old Masters' works. I stylized everything to make it a little more...urban. I would sneak out almost every night to find a canvas. Bridges, condemned buildings, rail cars, once a police car that had been left as a crime deterrent without any actual cops to go along with it."

"A cop car? Bold choice."

"All artists strive to find new challenges." Neal chuckled. "Over the course of a year I did dozens of murals. In fact some of them are probably still there today. Someone even wrote a book about them."

"A book? You're kidding."

"No." Neal smiled. "One of those big shiny coffee table picture books. I'll show you my copy some time."

"What's it called?"

"'Texas Anonymous'."

"Perfect. How does graffiti fit in with everything?"

Neal hesitated to continue. Peter didn't push him, he just nursed the beer while he waited. He hoped that now that Neal had started that he would continue. However now that the more light hearted pieces of the story were over he had fallen silent again. Eventually Peter gave in and gave Neal a nudge.

"Neal?"

"What?"

"The graffiti?"

"It's how I met Robert Caffrey...the greatest art forger the world has never known."


	11. Chapter 11

Note from the Phoenix: Well I go back to work tomorrow after a full month on short term disability. So here is my Christmas present to all my loyal readers. You know I love you all and that these stories wouldn't come to be if you didn't keep encouraging me! There will be three chapters worth of Neal and Daniel's adventures together, so enjoy them, but don't worry I'll be getting back to Walters, the Hope Diamond, and Sara after that.

WARNING: Strong language, and spoilers for 'The Count of Monte Cristo'...the best book *ever* written. Dumas was one of my first inspirations to write. Second only to Issac Asimov. Go out and read everything they have both written. ...after you read this.

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><p>White Collar: The Eye of Sita<p>

Chapter Eleven

Twelve years old Neal had slipped out his new bedroom window and was out on the Texas city streets. Leaving the safety of his upper middle class foster home he went in search of a new canvas. He had found long ago the key to not being bother by anyone while in the rough neighborhoods was to simply act like you belonged there. He walked with purpose with his shoulders held back.

Neal had done a recon mission the night before and quickly arrived at his destination. The industrial area was mostly abandoned at night. There were a few drug dealers around, but Neal had told them once who his mother was and they had all left him alone ever since. At times they even kept an eye on him to make sure he was safe.

Coming to one of the small on-ramp bridges that lead up to the highway Neal put down the back pack he'd brought. Neal always made sure that there was no true art on the cement where he was going to work. This place mostly had crudely done tags and random profanity. With a twelve by four space to work with Neal started to sketch out the scene he'd decided to put here.

Trying to bring some color and nature to the concrete slum Neal began work on a Japanese ink inspired work of a mountain range scene. This would be his twenty-second mural. He had learned that he needed to be fast when he worked to reduce the risk getting caught. In only a few hours he had a breathtaking vista over a mountain range with the old style trees and swirled clouds found in traditional Japanese art. Finishing the piece Neal signed it 'Texas Anonymous' in black and stood back to admire it.

"Just beautiful."

The deep voice startled Neal into dropping the spray paint. He whipped around to face the intruder while at the same time pulling the gun he wore at his hip out of its holster. The gun had been his father's and it was fully loaded. Standing about twenty feet to his right was man in his early fifties, wearing a suit far too nice to have just been 'out for a walk' in this part of the city. Neal did not hesitate to bring the weapon to bear on the man's chest.

"Hello, Texas." The man greeted warmly. "It's good to finally meet you, my name is Robert Caffrey."

"Stay back, Mr. Caffrey." Neal said calmly with traditional Texan respect for one's elders. "I don't want any trouble from you, and you don't want any from me."

"You hold your gun like a cop." Robert said with approval.

"I fire like one too." Neal warned. "Come any closer and I'll prove it to you."

"I believe you."

"There isn't a jury in this state that will convict me, I'll just tell them it was self defense and I'll make sure you're not around to say otherwise."

"Shoot to kill, that's the only way." Robert nodded. "However, I promise that my intentions are pure, I am not here to harm you in any way."

"Then what do you want from me?" Neal demanded.

"What else? I want some of your art."

"It's not very portable," Neal glanced quickly at the recently finished mural "but you can have this one if it will make you leave me alone."

"Talented and clever." Roberts smiled. "You are a diamond in the rough my friend."

"Not to sound cliche, but: I'm not your friend."

"And such a vocabulary for someone so young."

"Fuck off...how's that for vocabulary?"

"I fully understand your distrust, in fact I'd be worried if you did trust me." Roberts said seriously. "Here is what I want: I would like you to paint Van Gogh's 'Starry Night' in your style on the North facing wall of one of my business buildings."

"It's not really graffiti if someone gives you permission." Neal replied as he lowered his gun slightly.

"I realize that. Which is why I'm going to offer you 5,000$ in cash for your efforts."

"Yeah, right...let me guess: I just have to come to your place, but I probably shouldn't tell my parents because they'll just want the money for a college fund or something, so it's best if I just come alone."

"You're not living with your parents, Neal."

"How do you know my name?" Neal snarled as he raised the weapon again.

"I have resources." Robert said cryptically.

Neal narrowed his eyes as he positioned his aim directly over Robert's heart to show him that he wouldn't be easily taken. The sound of a gun being cocked directly behind him chilled Neal's blood. The cold touch of steel told him that the other man who had flanked him wanted him to give up his weapon. Neal didn't hand the gun over, but he did slowly put it back in its holster which seemed to satisfy the stranger.

"It's okay, Neal, he's not going to hurt you." Roberts assured. "I just wanted to show you that although you are good at taking care of yourself, you could still use some guidance."

"I don't need you." Neal spat.

"No, you don't, but that doesn't mean I don't have anything to offer you."

"What do you get in return?"

"The preservation of my legacy."

"Legacy?" Peter suddenly interrupted the story.

"That's what he said." Neal confirmed.

"What did he mean?"

"Like I said Robert was an amazing forger. Some of his paintings are hanging in the Louver right now as original works."

"Great." Peter sighed. "I don't suppose you could tell me which ones."

"I could, but I thought you promised me that this was all off record."

"Right. Of course. Don't tell me, it would just drive me crazy to know and not be able to do anything about it."

"Exactly." Neal smiled. "Robert was the best, but he had no son, no partner, no student, and he was suffering from macular degeneration."

"He was going blind?"

"Very slowly, a sad fate for anyone, but particularly harsh on an artist. He wanted someone to pass his secrets on to."

"And he found you."

"Yes he did."

"Did you do the painting for Roberts?"

"I did." Neal nodded. "He left me with the address and said that I could go there any night I wanted, the paint and the money would be waiting."

"No trap?"

"No trap. Everything was just as he said. Over the next three months I slowly started to trust him more and more. Eventually he took me into his home to stay. I say 'home', but mansion is a much better word for it, or 'estate' really."

"He adopted you?" Peter asked.

"That's what he told me."

"But that wasn't true?"

"I found out much later that it was a lot more complicated than that. He bought out the social worker to destroy my file and to tell me that I was going to live with him."

"Is that when you got the name 'Caffrey'?"

"No, I had to earn that."

"He was like a sponsor to you." Peter pieced together. "He bankrolled your early crime sprees and education."

"Not just me."

"Daniel White..."

"He took Daniel in when he was just five, his parents were both well known artists. Killed in a car accident. Daniel was a little more than a year older than I was, but it didn't take long for us to become close friends."

"Partners in crime?"

"That too..."

Although Neal had only recently turned fifteen and had not stepped foot in a classroom in over two years he was spending his morning studying Alexander Dumas. Neal wasn't sure if he would ever be able to read every book in the massive two story floor to ceiling private book collection, but he was determined to try. Neal was having a little trouble reading through 'The Count of Monte Cristo', but only because he was reading it in the original French.

Daniel wandered into the library and rolled his eyes when he caught sight of Neal laying on the giant Oriental rug with the dusty leather book. He and Neal had been nearly inseparable over the past two years, but Daniel still didn't understand Neal's fascination with the Old Masters. Daniel was much more interested in real world knowledge that applied directly to growing their various criminal skill sets. Physically Daniel was at the other end of the spectrum from Neal as well. Daniel's muscular build, deeply tan skin, and short bleach blonde hair was in stark contrast to Neal's long ebony hair, light skin, and lean grace.

Personality wise Daniel was much more into active adventure and far more socially outgoing. He bored easily and was quick to move from one project to another without ever finishing any of them. However the teenage boys shared enough common interests to make them as close as any brothers. Daniel walked up and stepped on the book Neal was reading.

"Careful, Daniel, this is an original copy from 1844."

"Neal, get your nose out of that book." Daniel demanded. "Let's go for a ride."

"Where are we going?"

"It's not about the destination my friend, it's about the journey."

"I really want to finish this, it's a great book. You should read it."

"I have." Daniel shrugged. "Dantes spends his whole life chasing Valentine, the 'love of his life', but he ends up with Haydee instead, end of story."

"I hate you." Neal sighed.

"I'll make it up to you, I swear. Let's go."

Sighing heavily Neal closed the priceless book and returned it to its place on the towering shelf. He followed Daniel out to the garage and looked over the collection of cars. Daniel usually asked him which one he wanted to take out, but today he grabbed the keys to his personal Ferrari and tossed them to Neal.

"I...I get to drive?" Neal asked in shock.

"Robert says it's about time you learn."

"Awesome."

The high performance vehicle proved to be a bit of a challenge at first, but with Daniel's guidance they were soon out on a lonely stretch of Texas highway. The car roared and squealed in protest at times when Neal didn't quite get the clutch right. Once on the open road it got easier and Neal found himself wanting to drive faster and faster.

"Shouldn't you have a seat belt on?" Neal asked.

"I never worry about seat belts in this car, at the speeds that she can do you're gonna die anyway."

"Good point."

Neal reached down and unsnapped his own seat belt. The added danger put a new thrill into the ride. Daniel laughed and told him to go faster, he was only driving twenty over the speed limit. Doing close to a hundred miles an hour Neal blasted past a cop that was hiding behind a ground level billboard. The cop flicked on his sirens as he screeched out onto the road to take chase.

"Oh, shit." Neal said as he took his foot off the gas.

"What are you doing?" Daniel complained. "Don't slow down."

"We're speeding, and I don't even have a driver's license."

"All the more reason to go faster."

"Daniel, there's a cop behind us."

"Yeah, 'behind us'," Daniel pointed out "in a Chevy Impala cruiser that is older than we are."

"So?"

"So? So? Neal, this is a Ferrari!" Daniel exclaimed proudly. "You've got seven gears, use them to leave that fucking Pig in the dust!"

Suddenly understanding what Daniel was getting at Neal stepped on the gas hard. The car was far more responsive than he was ready for and lurched forward. Daniel laughed and threw his head back as he howled like a wild coyote. With adrenaline racing through his blood as fast as the super powered engine Neal joined Daniel in the animalistic cry.

With the vast straight Texas road stretched out in front of them the car flew across the hot asphalt. The cop gave up the chase after only a mile, knowing that his own car would break down in the desert sun if he pushed it too hard.

"Easy there, Tiger, keep it under 200." Daniel chuckled.

"I am in love with this car." Neal said breathlessly as he eased off the gas.

"She's yours." Daniel said casually.

"What?"

"I've been looking to get the new model. You can have her."

"Woah, wait..." Peter interrupted the story again. "You were involved in a high speed chase driving a Ferrari when you were only fifteen?"

"Not really much of a chase. I still miss that car."

"You are unbelievable." Peter shook his head.

"Even though I'd lived with Robert in luxury for over a year, that car was my first real taste of what the 'good life' could really mean."

"No it wasn't, you just didn't know any better."

"Do you want to hear this story or not?"

"Right. I'm sorry. Continue."

"Anyway, when Daniel and I weren't getting into trouble my first year with Robert was mostly devoted to painting, learning a few other skills, and studying art, history, French..."

"French?"

"Robert insisted."

"Why?"

"I found out on my next birthday..."

A little more than three years after Neal first met Robert he was sleeping peacefully in his bedroom in the rambling Texas estate. At dawn he woke gently to an odd noise. Still half asleep he tried to figure out what the sound and if it was important enough to pay attention to. Deciding that it wasn't Neal rolled onto his stomach and tried to go back to sleep. He gasped sharply when he realized that the sound had been that of the lock on his door being picked, but it was too late.

"Attack!" Daniel cried.

"No! Ooof!" Neal exclaimed breathlessly as Daniel landed on him hard. "What is wrong with you?"

"Happy birthday!" Daniel crowed before tousling Neal's hair and bounding back off the bed.

"You are way too cheerful in the morning." Neal grumbled. "Go away."

"Come on, Old Man, get up!"

"I'm sixteen, I'm not old."

Neal had no intention of getting out of bed and hid under the comforter to go back to sleep. Daniel smiled mischievously and reached under the covers to grab a hold of Neal's ankle. Neal squawked as Daniel hauled him forcibly out of bed. Neal tried to grip down on the edge of the mattress, but there was little he could do to stop Daniel.

"Hey!" Neal protested with a laugh. "Let me go!"

"You might be smarter and better with a paint brush," Daniel chuckled "but I will always be bigger and stronger than you."

"That's only because you never let me get enough sleep."

Daniel managed to drag Neal fully off the bed, letting him go once he hit the floor. Neal tried to retaliate by tangling Daniel's legs in his own to bring him down to the floor, but Daniel easily turned the situation around and eventually pinned Neal to the floor by stepping on his chest. Neal struggled against Daniel for a moment, but he knew from experience that the only way to get free was to give in. Neal relaxed and put his hands up in surrender.

"That's more like it." Daniel released his captive.

"I need a better lock on my door." Neal grumbled.

"That's not going to keep me out." Daniel teased. "Neal, trust me, you're going to need all the daylight you can get today."

"What? Why?"

"Robert has a surprise for you. Personally I don't think you're good enough yet, but since it's your birthday you at least get a chance to prove yourself."

"I don't understand."

"You will." Daniel said mysteriously. "Get dressed and get your skinny ass down stairs."

"I'm not skinny, I just have narrow hips." Neal chuckled. "Which means I'll always look better in a suit than you."

"Whatever, just put something on over those ridiculous silk boxers and get down stairs."

Daniel constantly teased Neal about his slight frame. Although only a year older Daniel was considerably more muscular. Neal worked hard on gaining muscle so that he'd have a fighting chance against his friend, but all the exercise ever seemed to do was make him leaner with more definition. A recent growth spurt had brought him a few inches closer to Daniel's six foot three height, but it wasn't looking like Neal was going to quite reach the six foot barrier himself.

In the constant competitive war between himself and his surrogate brother Neal had to rely on either speed or cunning. As long as the contest wasn't brute force Neal tended to come out on top. His slight of hand performances surpassed that of both Daniel and Robert, or even probably David Copperfield. The only test of skill that Daniel beat him on hands down every time was lock picking. For such a big guy Daniel had a magical touch with locks.

Neal contemplated going back to bed once Daniel went down stairs. However, excited to see what Robert was planing for his birthday Neal stepped through the shower instead. Pulling on a pair of blue jeans and a white shirt Neal headed down stairs. Getting to the expansive dinning room table Neal found Robert and Daniel waiting for him.

"Happy Birthday, Neal." Robert greeted warmly.

"Thank you."

"I'm sure Daniel already told you that I have something planned."

"He did."

"Here it is."

Robert handed Neal a small metal box. Looking the box over Neal ran his fingertips over the key hole that was keeping the box firmly shut. Glancing at the table he spotted a full set of lock picks laid out. Neal smiled as he realized he was going to have to pick the lock if wanted to find out what was inside.

"You have until midnight to open it." Robert informed. "If you can't get it open by then you'll have to wait until next year to try again."

"If I can't pick a lock in an hour I probably just don't have the skill to pick it."

"On his sixteenth Daniel worked on it for seven hours before it opened for him."

"Seven hours?" Neal repeated in shock. "I don't remember that."

"I hid in my room, just n case I couldn't do it."

"I designed the lock myself." Robert said proudly.

"You went on a trip for over a week after that, didn't you?" Neal asked as he remembered. "Where did you go?"

"Tick, tock, Neal, time is wasting." Daniel mocked rather than answered. "Not that it matters, you'll never get that open this year."

"We'll see about that..."

Eight hours later Neal was still working at the intricate lock. Daniel had come at the seventh hour mark to mock him, but Neal didn't pay any attention. He wasn't frustrated, he was quietly determined to discover what made this lock so special. Neal had broken over a dozen picks, but there were plenty more where they came from.

The sun was starting to set and Neal hadn't taken his attention away from the locked box since he first got his hands on it. Every few hours Robert came into the dinning room to deliver something to drink or snack on, but he didn't say anything. Eventually Robert offered one piece of advice.

"Try it with your eyes closed."

Neal thought it was an odd suggestion, but he took it. Closing his eyes Neal concentrated on the tiny movements and vibrations from the delicate pins inside the lock as he raked them with the small pick. There were seven pins and each one needed just the right amount of tension on the tumbler. Neal wondered what the key must look like. What he didn't know was that there was no key capable of unlocking such a complicated lock. The only way inside was to coax it open with the pick.

With his eyes closed Neal imagined what the gears inside must look like and moved each pin. Thinking he had it Neal held his breath and turned the mechanism. With a satisfying click the lock sprung open.

"I got it!" Neal called.

While Neal waited for Robert and Daniel to come he slowly opened the box. He actually expected it to be empty. Neal already felt that the rush of success over such a challenging lock was reward enough. However tucked inside were two Canadian passports. He opened them both, one held his own picture the other held one of Daniel, but the names were wrong. Robert and Daniel arrived and congratulated Neal on sticking with the lock long enough to break it.

"What are these for?" Neal asked holding up the passports.

"Pack your bags, Boys, I'm sending you to Paris."

"Paris?" Neal lit up. "As in Paris, France?"

"The one and only." Robert nodded.

"Suddenly I understand why you insisted we learn French." Daniel grinned.

"Precisely. While you're over there I want you to bring me back something very special."

"Anything." Daniel and Neal replied in unison.

"I've always wanted a Matisse...the Paris Museum of Modern Art has a particularly nice one that I've had my eye on for years."

"Do you think Neal is ready for this?" Daniel asked doubtfully.

"I don't know." Roberts smiled. "Neal, are you ready?"

"Absolutely."


	12. Chapter 12

Note from the Phoenix: Daniel and Neal's first heist is directly based off a real life heist that took place in Paris. I changed the dates since this was a recent heist, but a lot of the details are the same. Of course I had to fill in some gaps since the thief has not been caught.

Thanks to Buttermilk for helping me out with French wine and Paris in general!

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><p>White Collar: The Eye of Sita<p>

Chapter Twelve

"I can't believe it...Pairs." Neal beamed. "You can just reach out and touch history here."

"Great." Daniel said with little enthusiasm.

Neal didn't even notice how tense Daniel was in the new city. He was far too preoccupied with the sights, sounds, and smells of the busy city. Although he'd spent most of his life in the desolate suburbs of Texas and the isolation of Robert's mansion, he always felt most at home in a crowd. There was just something about being around the chaos and energy of a big city. Everywhere he looked Neal discovered the living representations of the things he'd only read about in Robert's library.

Daniel scanned the street with a different kind of eye. He was on high alert for potential marks and anyone who might be a threat. The magic of the city seemed completely lost on him. Neal had never even been out of Texas before and finding himself practically on the other side of the world was exhilarating.

"Did you know that this city is practically unchanged since 1860?" Neal asked as he carefully memorized the near by archway so that he could paint it later.

"Yeah, fucking fascinating."

"You're such a philistine." Neal sighed. "This is the heart of the art world. Moiturier, Desportes, Moreau, Dupre, Monet, Bourdelle...all French."

"You forgot Matisse. Who is the real reason we're here."

"There is so much more to learn here than just the heist. Robert is helping us see the world, you know we'd both be stuck in Texas for the rest of our lives without him. He's giving us an amazing opportunity here."

"Don't fool yourself, Neal, we are nothing more than Caffrey's dogs. He just sent us here to fetch."

"You don't really believe that do you? Daniel, we're his family."

"You want to test that theory?" Daniel hissed. "Try getting arrested while we're over here and see what happens. Trust me, we are easier to replace than help. That's not what a family is."

"Daniel?" Neal asked confused. "You've never been so hostile towards Robert before. What's wrong?"

"A real father wouldn't dump you in a foreign country with no money, no place to stay, and no way out."

"He's teaching us to be independent."

"You're sixteen, Neal, you're not meant to be independent yet. About all I can say for Caffrey at this point is that at least he didn't send you alone."

"What happened on your sixteenth? Where did he send you?"

"New York."

"I'd love to see New York." Neal smiled. "I bet I could love New York."

"Crowded, cold, heartless city." Daniel spat. "I'll never go back."

Neal was confused by Daniel's sudden aggression, it wasn't a side of him that he'd ever seen before. He had noticed that as time past Daniel was becoming more rebellious, but now he seemed truly angry. Neal walked by his side as they came to a large stone fountain in the middle of a square. The fountain had detailed sculptures of cherubs and angels playing in the spray.

"Stay here." Daniel demanded. "I'll be back in a few hours, don't wander off too far."

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going hunting. We need a place to stay."

"Why can't I come?"

"This is a one man con, stay here."

"I can help you, trust me."

"No." Daniel said firmly. "Just stay out of trouble."

"I'm not as young as you think." Neal growled. "Stop treating me like a child."

"You are a child." Daniel hissed back. "This is the real world out here, Neal, back home you were a big fish in a small pond. Here you're little more than food for the sharks."

"I can take of myself."

"As long as Caffrey isn't around I am in charge and you'll do as I say or so help me God I will lock you up in some basement for the next two weeks until it is time to go home."

"If you suddenly hate Robert so much, why go back at all?"

"I still need him, besides I'm not going to leave you alone with him."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"For someone so smart how can you be so naive?"

Daniel didn't even give Neal a chance to answer the question, he just stalked off into the crowd. Suddenly alone in the foreign city Neal felt a pang of anxiety, but he wasn't sure if it was from being so far from home or from Daniel's odd behavior. Looking around at all the tourists Neal quickly shrugged off his uneasiness. Daniel hadn't said anything about not hunting while he was away, and in Paris Neal felt like a wolf among sheep.

Neal began prowling the surrounding area. Even within just a square mile there was plenty to see and do. He quickly discovered that it was better to pretend to be a Canadian that spoke no French than to speak French with an American accent. During his exploration Neal managed to pick up a bottle of Chateau Latour 1970, a bottle that was on the borderline of being a collector's item. Believing more in the spirit of drinking wine rather than letting it turn thick on a shelf he set himself up at a small cafe to enjoy the rich wine.

It was near noon when Daniel arrived back at the fountain. Neal was lounging at the cafe across the way with more than half a bottle of Chateau Latour in his veins. Feeling no pain Neal watched as Daniel started to become increasingly agitated with not finding him. Neal tried to get up, but fell back into the patio chair with Paris spinning around him.

"Daniel!" Neal called out.

"Neal?"

"Over here!"

Daniel turned around and rushed over to Neal. Neal had the bottle of wine on the table, but he was civilized enough to be pouring it into a glass. He'd ordered far more food than he could eat and most of the plates on the table were still untouched. Daniel looked Neal over disapprovingly and pointed at the vintage bottle of wine.

"Did you steal that?"

"I did. You want some?" Neal smiled as he picked up the bottle to pour another glass. "Ran a Missionary Double Back on this little shop."

"Give me that." Daniel took the bottle and tossed it in the trash.

"Hey," Neal protested drunkenly "that was really expensive."

"And here you are drinking it out in the open."

"No one seemed to notice."

"Get up."

"Can't."

"I shouldn't have left you alone." Daniel sighed.

Daniel reached into his back pocket and pulled out a large amount of bills. He estimated how much the food on the table cost and then doubled it. Tossing the money on the table he slipped in under Neal's shoulder and helped him stand. Daniel lead Neal away from the more crowded area to a deserted back alley. Neal suddenly doubled over and retched violently.

"That Latour is strong stuff." Neal giggled. "I probably won't be able to move tomorrow."

"It will serve you right."

"When did you suddenly become no fun, Daniel?"

"When one of us had to become the adult."

"I'm plenty adu..." Neal stopped as he threw up again.

"Yeah, vomiting Chateau Latour 1970 in a back alley in Paris. Your Momma would be so proud."

"I told you never to mention her." Neal snarled.

"You haven't talked to her in what...four years? Does she even know you're still alive?"

Baring his teeth at Daniel in animal fury Neal launched himself at him. Daniel easily stepped to the side and grabbed Neal by the collar. Daniel held Neal at arm's length easily as Neal continued to try to get to him. When Neal didn't stop struggling against him Daniel suddenly let go. Stumbling forward drunkenly Neal fell to the cobblestone street. Unable to get back up he just rolled over onto his back and looked up at Daniel.

"Are you going to calm down?" Daniel asked without sympathy.

"I don't feel so good..." Neal admitted.

"I hope you learned something."

Neal smiled and tried to answer, but he blacked out. The red rays of sunset were painting the room when Neal woke back up. He wasn't sure how Daniel had managed it, but he was laying on an antique couch in a lavish living room. Looking out the old style windows Neal could see the Moulin de La Galette windmill which had inspired countless artists over the years. The windmill told him that they had ended up in Montmartre. Neal smiled, Renoir, Monet, Van Gogh and Picasso had all lived in Montmartre.

Daniel's voice speaking in hushed French caught Neal's attention. Despite the pounding headache Neal sat up and looked over the back of the couch. Daniel was speaking with an older gentle man, thanking him for something. The man leaned in and kissed Daniel's cheek. Daniel turned away, but allowed the intimate contact. The man trailed his hand down Daniel's chest slowly before turning and leaving. Neal had read that the French were affectionate, but he hadn't realized that they were that 'touchy'. Once the man was gone Daniel sighed heavily and dragged his hands through his blonde hair.

"Daniel?" Neal asked in concern.

"Neal." Daniel turned and smiled. "Feeling any better?"

"I am...sorry about attacking you like that."

"It's okay, you were pretty drunk."

"I'm still a little tipsy." Neal admitted. "Who was that guy?"

"He owns these flats, rents them out to tourists. He's going to let us stay here for the next two weeks."

"Really? This place is amazing." Neal said as he got to his feet and walked over to Daniel. "What is it costing us to stay here?"

"Don't worry about it." Daniel shrugged. "I've got us covered."

"Your shirt is buttoned wrong." Neal pointed out. "I don't remember it being like that earlier..."

"Are you hungry?" Daniel asked as he corrected his buttons.

"Not really, but this is Paris so I'm not about to pass up a chance at the food."

"Okay, let's hit a cafe. We can lift some cash along the way."

"What do you think I've been doing all day?" Neal reached into his back pocket and pulled out a large amount of francs.

"You're way too good at that." Daniel smiled.

"The French are pretty good at it too." Neal chuckled. "I had some fun letting the locals lift emptied wallets from me. Two of them were able to do so without me noticing."

"You really do enjoy all of this don't you?" Daniel asked seriously. "It's not just about money, is it?"

"It's never been about the money. I see it as another form of art, and I can appreciate other artists."

"You're so strange." Daniel sighed. "I want a steak and a beer, do they do that here or do they only serve snails and shit like that?"

"France has been raising cattle longer than Texas has."

"That doesn't mean they're better at it."

"I'm sure we can find you something. This is Paris after all."

"So you keep telling me."

A week in Paris went by all too quickly for Neal. Before long they needed to get down to serious business on getting the Matisse. At first Daniel had insisted on doing the heist alone, however Neal told him that nothing was going to keep him from the action. Eventually Daniel realized that the Art Museum was a two person job at the least any way.

In the few days before the actual break in Daniel and Neal took turns visiting the museum next to the Palais de Tokyo. One system at a time they started to dismantle the security. They kept close tabs on any repair work to ensure that the museum hadn't gotten around to fixing the bugs they had introduced into the system. Rather than fix the expensive equipment they simply added a few lazy night guards for the time being. It only took two nights of recon to find that the guards spent most of their time playing cards and drinking with one another downstairs.

When the night finally arrived the only things that stood between the young thieves and the treasure trove was a pad lock and a pane of glass. Daniel picked the lock easily. It took Neal's athletics to climb up the court yard tree and make the dangerous leap over to the balcony on the second floor. He'd then lowered a rope to allow Daniel to join him.

There was no lock on the outside of the window, it was held closed by a bar that could only be removed from the inside. The caulk however was old and they were able to simply carve the glass out. Neal was thin enough to slip in through the open pane and remove the bar so that Daniel could come in the now open window. Once inside Daniel went directly to the Matisse and pulled out a razor blade.

"Are you insane?" Neal hissed quietly as he grabbed Daniel's wrist.

"What? This is what we came for."

"You're about to put a knife through a Matisse!"

"How else are we going to get it out of here?"

"Just back away from the painting, okay? Let me handle this."

Daniel looked around nervously. He could hear the guards laughing down stairs. Neal rummaged through his back pack and pulled out a small kit. With the alarms disabled he was able to bring the framed work off the wall. Working carefully he disassembled the frame and pulled the nails out of the canvas.

"Hurry up, Neal." Daniel pressed.

"Relax, this isn't one of your smash and grab jewelry heists. This needs to be done carefully to avoid damage."

"Just get it done."

"Almost there."

Neal peeled the Matisse off the stretching frame where it had been since 1906 and gently rolled it up. Daniel snatched the painting from Neal and put it in his back pack. Grabbing Neal by the back of the collar he started to lead him back to the open window. Daniel was out on the balcony when Neal hesitated and looked back into the gallery.

"Come on, Neal, we got what we needed, let's go."

"Wait...why are we just taking the one?"

"Because this is the one Caffrey wants."

"I want some of the others."

"Damn it, Neal." Daniel growled. "This is not the time or the place to get greedy."

"It's not about money, Daniel." Neal said defensively. "If I have originals to study up close I can improve my own paintings. I have to be able to touch them, photos just aren't enough."

"Forget that. Neal, let's just go."

"You can go, I'm going to stay. I'll meet you back at the flat."

"Neal, no!"

It was too late, Neal was back in the artistic candy shop. He went up to each painting and carefully contemplated its value as an art subject. Neal chose several paintings that were not the artist's most famous works, but gave the best representation of their style. He carefully removed a Braque, a l'Estaque, a Modigliani, and a Picasso for good measure.

"Neal, that's enough...we need to get out of here. They will make sure we are murdered gruesomely in prison if they catch us."

"Just one more."

"How about this one." Daniel grabbed the nearest painting.

"No, don't take that one." Neal stopped Daniel.

"Why not?"

"It's not real, it's one of Robert's."

"How can you tell?"

"You see this pattern in the brush strokes here?"

"No."

"Upside down, backwards 'RC'...it's his signature."

"Whatever, just get what you want and let's go."

Neal took down one last painting and removed it carefully from the frame. When Neal had his back turned Daniel slash Robert's painting with his razor before he placed it back on the wall. It was near sunrise when Daniel was finally able to pull Neal out of the Museum. They didn't have time to put the window pane back like they had planed. Using the rope that Neal had placed they hit the ground running.

The papers actually described their night as 'the heist of the century' with the art taken worth nearly ninety million pounds. Despite Daniel begging him not to Neal had gone to the museum the next morning and was amused to see that it had been shut down for the day due to 'technical reasons'. The head of the neighboring gallery, Pierre Cornette de Saint-Cry had made a statement to the press that the paintings were 'unsellable' and that the thieves were 'imbeciles'. Neal had smile, nothing was 'unsellable' and he didn't mind waiting ten years to fence them. He figured he'd need at least that to study them. All in all Paris had been well worth the trip.

"Neal?" Peter's voice invaded the memory. "Neal?"

"Hmm?" Neal asked.

Neal had not been willing to share the story of his first, and perhaps his greatest heist with Peter. Having been reminded of it he'd become lost in the memory and had been sitting silently for the past few minutes. When he hadn't continued with his story about his sixteenth birthday Peter had been forced to encourage him.

"You were going to tell me something about going to Paris?"

"Oh right," Neal smiled "Paris was nice."

"Nice?"

"Very pretty."

"What happened over there?"

"Nothing special."

"Neal..."

"I lost my virginity to a high pric..."

"Okay, enough about Paris." Peter interrupted quickly. "Back to Texas, what pushed Daniel into murdering Robert?"

With his mind taken off good times Neal instantly sobered. Peter could see the chance in Neal's eyes and didn't pressure him. Neal found his pulse racing at memory that he had tried to put behind him for so many years. Neal closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"You think you can know someone, you think you can trust them, but you can't. You can never predict how someone will act, or what they'll do, how far they'll go when pushed."

"I take it you never felt that Daniel would hurt Robert."

"It wasn't just Robert," Neal whispered "Daniel tried to kill me as well."

"Why?"

"Daniel and I had been in the same house together for years, but we had been living in two totally different worlds..."


	13. Chapter 13

Note from the Phoenix: Wow...Neal's background story has really gotten out of hand. This was not what I was originally intending for this story. I was also hoping to get to the 'present' by the end of this chapter...however the final show down between Robert, Neal, and Daniel made this chapter like 17 pages long and I think that's just much too long. So I'm breaking it into two chapters. After that we'll get back to the problems at hand! Although the past will be important to solving the present day case, I swear! I hope you are enjoying my view on Neal's past.

PS- I changed the rating from T to M because I realized that since there is going to be some violence and adult themes during the chapter after this one that it would be best to be safe.

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><p>White Collar: The Eye of Sita<p>

Chapter Thirteen

"It's beautiful, Neal, near perfection."

"Thank you."

"You've come so far, so quickly." Robert beamed. "I wasn't this good until I was in my twenties."

"You probably didn't have as good a teacher as I do." Neal chuckled.

"I was classically trained," Robert smiled "which isn't much help when it comes to forgeries."

"I want to get this one right, what can I do better on it?"

Neal had brought his latest painting on an easel into Robert's study for inspection. Robert's macular degeneration forced him to bring his face close enough to the painting to almost touch it. He studied the forgery of the Monet water lilies that Neal had brought him. Neal had the real painting to study, it was one of the ones he'd taken from Paris. It was his favorite from the stolen works and he was determined to forge it.

"Monet is not easy to forge, he had such an easy flow to his hand." Robert said. "You're still a little too stiff. This might sound crazy, but try a few glasses of red wine before you work next time, might help loosen your arm. Don't press so hard around the edges of the contrasting colors, let them work together. Other than that it is a masterpiece. I'm sure I could fool some buyer into taking this one if we age it."

"No, I'm going to destroy this like I did the others. I'll start again tonight."

"How many times have you painted this one?"

"Tonight will make nine. Practice makes perfect, right?"

"Confidence makes perfect, Neal, confidence."

"I know I can do this."

"That's the spirit." Robert laughed. "Try the wine and I bet this next one will be good enough to make even you happy enough to test it out on the market. Do you have a buyer in mind?"

"I don't want to sell it." Neal smiled mischievously. "I want to donate it to the Art Museum in Paris."

"Bold choice for your first forgery, I love it."

"If I put it in the hands of the people who knew the painting best and it passes then I'll know I'm ready."

"You'll be ready, Neal. You're the best I've ever seen and more than I could have ever hoped for. I'm proud of you."

Robert reached out and tousled Neal's hair affectionately. Neal cherished Robert's approval of his work, he knew it wasn't something that was easily won. Robert reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver lighter. Neal smile and took the lighter, he flicked the flame on and lit the corner of the Monet that he had just finished and let it burn. The painting had taken him close to three months to complete but it only took minutes to destroy.

"The best evidence is no evidence." Robert said seriously. "Never confirm any accusations of guilt, don't deny them either, that's just as bad. When asked questions it is best to just keep your mouth shut and smile."

Neal flashed Robert a well practiced bright smile.

"That's perfect, I might even believe you're innocent."

A month later Neal was busy in his studio working on his next attempt at the water lilies. He had the original Monet on a easel next to the one that he was working on so that he could compare. He was getting to a point where he could nearly do the painting from memory alone. Lost in the creative process Neal didn't even notice Daniel coming into the studio.

Daniel slunk over silently and playfully jabbed Neal in the ribs. Startled by the sneak attack Neal jerked forward. His paintbrush gouged an inch long trough through the still wet oil paint. With the colors mixed there would be no repairing the damage if this was going to fool the Paris Art Museum. Neal turned a murderous glare on Daniel.

"Damn it, Daniel." Neal snarled. "Now I'm going to have to start over, do you have any idea how expensive this antique canvas is, not to mention the paint?"

"Sorry, I forgot how pressed we are for money." Daniel rolled his eyes.

"You've cost me a month's worth of work."

"It's been almost two years and you're still staring at that damn painting." Daniel sighed in exasperation. "How many times have you painted those ridiculous water lilies?"

"I'm not good enough yet."

"Good enough for what?"

Neal didn't answer, he'd had this argument with Daniel too many times before. He picked up the half finished Monet off the easel and tossed it unceremoniously into the corner. Neal knew that Daniel had ruined the painting on purpose. Daniel didn't approve of forgery, he thought it was pointless when there was plenty of real stuff to steal and sell.

Doing his best to ignore his surrogate brother Neal got another canvas and began to prepare it for another attempt. Once again Neal started to outline where the water lilies were going to be with light strokes. He'd had half a bottle of wine today and it did help loosen his muscles for better painting. Neal stopped when he heard the sound of a steel ball rattling around inside a spray paint can. He looked over his shoulder and found Daniel holding a can of spray paint with a bright smile.

"Come on, Neal, let's go show the world something original." Daniel smiled. "Show me you're still a real artist and not some breathing copy machine."

"It's two o'clock in the afternoon."

"So?"

"Not really the right time for tagging."

"You need to get out of this house and enjoy the outside world, Neal. All this painting is no good for you, I think the fumes are starting to rot your brain."

"Please go away."

Daniel made a noise of exasperation. Neal went back to his painting, knowing that Daniel would eventually give up. As the years had passed they had started having different views on their career paths. In two months Neal would be eighteen and he wanted this painting to be done by then.

Neal suddenly felt a cold metal contact against his temple. He glanced at the weapon and was mildly irritated that Daniel had taken his father's police issue out of the drawer where he kept it. He had a collection of guns nearly three hundred strong, but this was the only one he kept on hand.

"You know that gun is loaded, right?" Neal asked calmly.

"I know you can't resist a marksman challenge." Daniel said as he lowered the weapon. "Let's go down to the range. See if you can out shoot me."

"You know I can."

"Well prove it to me one last time and I'll never bother you in your studio again. However, if I win..."

"Not likely."

"If I win you have to get out of this dank studio and come out to a bar with me, find you a girlfriend."

"I have a girlfriend, in fact I have three...sometimes four, depending on Cindy's mood."

"Those aren't 'girlfriends', Neal, those are fiends with benefits." Daniel complained. "They are less than that, they are 'acquaintances with benefits'. Do any of them even know your real name?"

"No, of course not."

"And you don't see something wrong with that? What about romance, what about love?"

"I don't have time for love," Neal said dismissively "I barely have time for sex."

"There is something deeply wrong with you...I mean that."

"If you want to be good at something you have to put time into it." Neal said as he went back to outlining one of the water lilies. "And I want to be the best."

"Like Caffrey?" Daniel asked darkly.

"Exactly."

"Neal, you don't want to be like him." Daniel said firmly.

"Of course I do. He's everything I want to be. He's not just another member of the herd like the rest of the cattle that you meet every day on the street."

"I don't understand you, Neal." Daniel sighed. "How can you want to be almost sixty and so alone that you need to pick orphans up off the street for 'company'? You take this business too seriously. We should just plan one final score and then get lives, real lives."

"This is my life."

"Neal..."

"I don't want to hear anymore, Daniel." Neal snapped. "I don't want some 'one last score'. I don't want the money, I want the adventure, I want the lifestyle, I want to have my work hang in the Louvre. Why can't you understand that?"

"Because I know you can do better than just being Caffrey. You take too many risks. I don't want you ending up alone or in prison. The path you're on now you're going to end up both."

"I don't see you looking to make an honest living so don't talk to me about risk."

"I'm happy to take what I can get and stay quiet about it, but you seem to have a pathological need to flaunt your work."

"I do not."

"Are you going to sign that Monet?" Daniel asked knowingly.

"Get out." Neal growled.

"Nea..."

"No, not another word. Stay out of my studio! I don't want to have this conversation with you again."

"I just want what's best for you..."

"You need to let me decide what that is."

"I'm sorry...you're right. Just please think about it. I'm not going to visit you in prison."

"You won't have to, I won't get caught."

"Once you sell a stolen piece of jewelry or even a painting the evidence is all but gone. What you're doing...that forgery is little more than a rope around your neck, eventually it will hang you."

"At least I'll die doing what I love."

It had been three months since Neal's last argument with Daniel in his studio. In those months Daniel had become increasingly distant. He spent most of his time out of the house and sometimes days would go by where Neal wouldn't see him at all. Determined to finish the Monet Neal had not really had time to talk to Daniel about it. He wanted the painting done in time for his eighteenth birthday.

This morning was that day, and he only had a few hours left of work to do on the painting before it was done. It was nearly nine o'clock and Neal was still in bed. Daniel had always pounced on him at dawn on his birthday. This morning he hadn't even heard Daniel attempting to pick the new locks. Eventually giving up on Daniel Neal sighed and got out of bed.

Getting dressed Neal went to Daniel's bedroom, but he wasn't there. Neal went down stairs and started roaming the large house looking for his friend. Robert was at the breakfast table and smiled warmly when he caught sight of Neal.

"Happy birthday, Neal. You got up late this year."

"Where's Daniel?"

"I don't know. He didn't come home last night."

"Again? I'm worried about him."

"Daniel is just getting ready to leave the nest, Neal. He doesn't have the same ambitions as you do, he'll be fine."

"It's not like him to forget my birthday, for some reason they've always seemed to be so important to him in the past."

"I'm sure he'll be home soon." Robert assured. "Come over here, I have something special for you this year."

"I hope it isn't behind a complicated lock," Neal smiled "I have until midnight to put the finishing touches on my Monet."

"No lock this year."

Neal came over as Robert got to his feet and offered him a small black lacquer box. Neal took the box and opened it. He furrowed his brow as he looked at the small heap of ashes that the box contained.

"No evidence is the best evidence." Robert smiled warmly.

"What is this evidence of?"

"Your former life."

"I don't understand."

"Your birth certificate, driver's license, school files, foster papers, medical history, all of it. Everything is gone, as far as the world is concerned you never existed."

"Wha...why would you do that to me?" Neal asked terrified.

"It's okay, Neal." Robert said softly and handed Neal a leather bound folder. "I got you a new identity."

Neal put down the box of ashes and took the leather folder. Opening the thick folder Neal found a full identity kit, passport, driver's license, birth certificate, even a new social security number. Shocked Neal wasn't sure what to say. On the one hand he knew it was an honor, on the other he'd just had his name taken from him.

"Everything is real, bulletproof. Right now your past is blank, but we'll get some of the background type papers later."

"'Neal Caffrey'." Still stunned Neal read the new surname out loud.

"Happy first birthday Neal Caffrey."

"I...uh..."

"I'm sorry." Robert apologized. "I should have asked you first, I guess I thought you'd be expecting this. This new identity not only entitles you to my estate, but erasing your past was the only way to get your finger prints out of the system."

"My fingerprints?"

"Taken when you were placed in the foster system. I've been working on this since I first brought you in. New identities are easy, erasing old ones takes a lot more work. I'm sorry if I've upset you."

"No." Neal said quickly. "No, I am honored. Thank you."

"I couldn't love a son of my own flesh and blood more than I love you."

Neal flushed slightly as he smiled. Robert still looked slightly nervous, something that Neal could never remember him being. Truly grateful for everything his mentor had done for him Neal shook off his reservations of leaving his old surname behind. He embraced Robert briefly before stepping back and smiling.

"Hello," Neal held his hand out "I'm Neal Caffrey."

"Good to meet you." Robert smiled as he shook Neal's hand. "How does the name feel?"

"It feels...right."


	14. Chapter 14

WARNING: Following chapter has violence, touches on adult themes, and contains some strong language.

* * *

><p>White Collar: The Eye of Sita<p>

Chapter Fourteen

Hard at work in his studio Neal was putting the finishing touches on the Monet. He had half a dozen or so paintings that he was working on at the moment that were all set up on easels around the studio. However the others were just there to give him something to do when he was too frustrated to work on the Monet.

Turning away from the painting Neal walked over to the large work table. He picked through the various bottles of linseed oils, paint thinners, spirits, and turpentines. Finding what he was looking for he diluted a small amount of antique oil paint powder into some fresh blue paint with one of the paint thinners. The powder would help the painting pass any age tests if the museum dared scratch the painting for testing.

Glancing up at the seventeenth century clock that Neal had picked up on his last trip to Austria Neal sighed. It was almost eleven and Daniel still hadn't come home. Neal wasn't sure what Daniel had been doing with the last three months of his life. They hadn't gone on any heists together, or really done anything together lately. Focused on getting the painting right Neal just hadn't had the time. He was starting to think that Robert was right and that Daniel was preparing to leave the nest.

"I hope you don't leave without saying good-bye."

Feeling heavy hearted Neal returned to the nearly complete painting. Having been born at eleven fifty-one at night he officially had just over an hour before he turned eighteen. Neal wasn't sure why he was so obsessed with completing the painting before he was an 'adult', but it was important to him. Staring at the original and turning back to his own work Neal made the final adjustment.

"Almost there..."

Picking up both paintings he tuned them upside down. Robert had taught him that the key to any convincing signature forgery was to turn the pages upside down. With the familiar letters now nothing more than shapes to be copied Neal dipped the thin brush in the blue paint that he had mixed. Holding his breath Neal carefully inscribed Monet's classic signature into the bottom corner.

Neal stood back and compared the signatures. Satisfied that it would fool even the most trained eye he smiled. Neal hesitated to put the final strokes on the canvas. Daniel's accusation of having a pathological need to sign his work was still on his mind. Neal reasoned that he had spent nearly two years perfecting this painting and he had every right to sign it. He'd put more time and effort into his version than Monet probably had with the original. With a clean brush dipped in turpentine Neal went to the corner opposite to the forged signature. Almost forgetting to use his new initials Neal signed the painting by simply disturbing the natural stroke patterns in the still wet oil paint.

"Congratulations, Neal."

Hearing Daniel's voice Neal jolted, this time however he managed not to ruin the hard won painting. Neal was always amazed by Daniel's ability to pick a lock nearly silently. Daniel said that Neal made it easy by being so preoccupied in his own world. Turning around Neal took a defensive stance in front of the painting.

"I swear to God, Daniel, if you ruin this painting I will kill you."

"I gave up on trying to stop you months ago, Neal." Daniel sighed. "Happy birthday."

"Thanks."

An uncomfortable silence fell over the pair. Neal looked Daniel over and for the first time noticed how much weight he'd recently lost. He was still muscular, but there was a hollowness around his dark eyes. When Daniel took a step forward Neal visibly tensed. Daniel smiled sadly and held his hands up in peaceful surrender. Feeling guilty Neal forced himself to relax.

"Are you afraid of me?" Daniel asked hurt.

"I'm sorry, Daniel. I just know how much you disapprove of my painting, and I don't want it destroyed."

"I don't disapprove, I'm just worried. But I'm over that. I have a new solution, one that I think will work out for us both. But, first I have a gift."

"You didn't have to do that. I'm just glad you came home."

"I almost didn't."

Daniel reached behind his back and pulled out an elegant long barreled revolver. Neal recognized the weapon instantly and gasped in surprise. Daniel smiled brightly and flipped the gun over to offer the grip to Neal. Taking the gun Neal was surprised by how heavy it was, nearly five pounds.

"Daniel...is this an actual Colt Walker 1847?"

"It is."

"Where did you find it? It's amazing." Neal held the weapon up and tested out the balance by aiming it at the far wall.

"Careful, it's loaded."

"Loaded?"

"I had a black powder guy load it for me."

"Daniel...you don't fire a gun like this."

"Then what's the point in having it?"

"For the same reason you have a Monet." Neal chuckled. "To admire it, to appreciate its beauty, to touch history."

"So you like the gun?"

"I love it."

Daniel smiled, but he looked uneasy. He was shifting his weight from foot to foot and kept scratching at his arms. Neal put the nearly one million dollar weapon down on his work table. He stepped up to Daniel and put his hand on his shoulder.

"Daniel? Is everything okay?"

"Did Caffrey give you his name for your birthday?" Daniel asked suddenly.

"He did." Neal admitted.

"I knew he would one day." Daniel said thoughtfully. "Neal, it's time we stop this before happens again."

"Stop what?"

"Caffrey."

"I don't understand."

"I don't know about you, but he lost interest in me a few months ago." Daniel said in a hushed tone. "I didn't want to do anything about it before because I knew the foster system would separate us, not being blood relatives and all, but now that you are a 'Caffrey' we can finally do what's right."

"What?" Neal asked confused.

"I broke into his safe a few nights ago." Daniel continued. "I found three files: Samuel, Alexander, and Travis. Six, nine, and seven."

"Daniel, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"He's replacing us, Neal, we're too old for him."

"We all have to leave the nest sometime." Neal shrugged. "It's only fair that someone else should have the same opportunities we had."

"Have you lost your senses?" Daniel demanded. "We can't let this happen to someone else. I feel guilty enough that I let it happen to you!"

"Daniel, I'm sick of you taking responsibility for my actions. I enjoy who I am, I'm proud of it."

"Tha...that's not what I'm talking about."

"What are you talking about?" Neal asked in frustration.

Daniel furrowed his brow in thought as he stared at Neal. Waiting for an explanation Neal said nothing. Daniel was clearly expecting Neal to say something, but he wasn't sure what to say. Daniel's confusion suddenly turned to anger. He turned and stormed out of the studio. Confused Neal wasn't sure if he should go after him or not. Before he could make a decision Daniel returned with a handful of photos that he pressed against Neal's chest.

"This is what I'm talking about!" Daniel growled. "I know we never talk about it, but we need to start."

Neal reached up and took the photos to look through them. Realizing what Daniel had found Neal closed his eyes for a second and sighed heavily. Dismissing the photos Neal tossed them onto his work table casually. Neal's caviler attitude towards the photos seemed to enrage Daniel further.

"Neal..."

"Where did you get those?" Neal asked calmly.

"They were in Caffrey's safe. Stop denying that this is a problem."

"Calm down. They are just art references, Daniel, anatomy poses for my paintings."

"This isn't art, Neal, it's pornography!"

"No, you're wrong."

"How old are you in these photos?"

"I don't remember, fifteen or sixteen. There is more than one set."

"Who's idea was it?"

"Robert said it would help me with my anatomy and perspective and he was right. It was a good idea, I don't see what the problem is."

"You don't see how this made things worse?"

"Daniel, it's art, I don't expect you to understand. Trust me, it's harmless."

"What about what he did to you after taking the photos? Was that harmless?"

"After? Daniel, if you're suggesting that any of this lead to sex you're wrong." Neal snarled defensively. "Robert has never touched me."

"Yeah...well...I wish I could say the same."

Neal's blood turned to ice at the pain in Daniel's voice. Daniel closed his eyes as tears suddenly streaked his face. Neal wasn't ready to have his entire perspective of his benefactor changed like this. Unsure of what to say Neal reached out to put his hand on Daniel's arm.

"Don't touch me." Daniel hissed as he pulled away.

"Daniel, I...I'm sorry."

"Don't be 'sorry', help me stop him. Come with me to the police."

"I...I don't..."

"He won't be able to hurt anyone else. We can have him arrested, and now that you're his 'son' his estate will be ours."

"Wait...that's what this is really about isn't it?" Neal accused. "This is that 'one last score' you were talking about, one last con. I'm not lying to the police about being abused..."

"It's not a lie!" Daniel shouted.

"Daniel, your nose is bleeding."

"It's nothing."

Daniel didn't seem surprised to be suddenly bleeding. He pulled out a square of silk from his back pocket that already had dried blood on it. When he did so a small ziplock fell out of his pocket onto the floor. Neal picked it up and held it up to see what was inside. Daniel made a desperate grab for it, but Neal was quicker and pulled it out of his reach. Neal took a closer look at the cloudy crushed white crystals in the bag.

"Daniel...is this meth?"

"Give that back!"

"Is this what you've been doing the past few months? Drugs? Is this why you don't come home at night?"

"Neal, give that to me...now!"

"No, Daniel, you need help. I'm sorry I've been so busy, I didn't reali..."

With his eyes still focused on the small bag of glassy crystals Daniel suddenly launched himself at Neal. Taken by surprise Neal was blindsided by a powerful strike to the jaw. He stumbled back and Daniel drove them both to the floor. Trapped under Daniel's weight Neal clawed at him and tried to escape.

Neal had never been a match for Daniel's strength. Daniel seemed to have forgotten about their previous conversation as well as the bag of drugs that Neal had dropped to the floor. His mind had been taken over by a violent rage and he attacked Neal like a rabid dog. Neal tried surrendering, but it quickly became clear that Daniel wasn't going to be pacified that easily.

"Help! Hel..."

Daniel reared up, sitting back on Neal's hips and back handed Neal hard enough to momentarily knock him senseless. Getting back to his feet Daniel reached down and grabbed a fist full of Neal's shirt. Still having trouble focusing Neal held on to Daniel's wrist as he hauled him to his feet. Lost in a psychotic rage Daniel was panting for breath as though he'd just run a marathon.

"Daniel..."

"I should have known," Daniel interrupted "I should have known the moment I met you that you'd be the favored son."

"Neal?" Robert's voice came from the hall. "Are you okay? What's going o..."

Robert froze in horror as he stepped in on the scene. Daniel looked up at Robert and instantly dropped Neal. Not expecting to be released Neal fell back to the paint stained floor. When Daniel grabbed the antique gun off the work table Neal scrambled to his feet to stop him. Daniel had the gun aimed at Robert when Neal tackled him.

The gun went off with the powerful roar of a black powder explosion, leaving a distinct scent in the air. Almost simultaneously Robert cried out in pain and fell back. Neal released Daniel and turned to see Robert on the floor with his hands over his badly bleeding stomach. Rushing to his side Neal dropped to his knees and put his hands over Robert's to help slow the bleeding.

"Nea...Neal..." Robert gasped "...run!"

"It's going to be okay." Neal said with far more confidence than he felt. "Daniel, get help!"

Daniel had dropped the gun in shock and was staring at the blood that was pooling under Neal's hands. Keeping the pressure on the devastating wound Neal looked over his shoulder and saw Daniel just starting at him.

"Daniel!" Neal barked. "Call 9-1-1, now!"

"No." Daniel whispered.

Realizing that Daniel wasn't going to help him Neal looked to the phone against the far wall. Risking leaving Robert's side Neal jumped up to get to the phone. Daniel sprang into action as well. He caught Neal by the upper arm and yanked him back. Daniel threw Neal against the floor-to-ceiling bookshelf that covered the side wall. Neal's back slammed into the leather bound books, knocking him breathless. Before he could recover Daniel pounced on him, using his forearm against Neal's chest to keep him pinned.

"Daniel, please, don't do this!" Neal begged. "Let me help him, you're not a killer..."

"I will be soon."

"Dani..."

Tired of listening to Neal pleading with him Daniel clamped his hand down over Neal's mouth. Having already been panting for breath Neal renewed his struggling as Daniel made it even more difficult to breath. Daniel leaned in closer and used his full weight to keep Neal pinned to the bookcase. Daniel's hot breath brushed against Neal's ear as he rested his cheek against Neal's.

"It's going to be okay, Neal." Daniel whispered soothingly. "It will be over soon. He has so many enemies, no one will be surprise and no one will miss him when he's gone."

Neal whimpered under Daniel's hand to let him know that he disagreed.

"You can't be in our line of work and not spill a little blood now and then, Neal."

Neal strained to look over at Robert. There was more than a little blood spilled as he continued to slowly bleed out. With his arms wrapped protectively over his stomach Robert panted and moaned in pain. Deep in shock he didn't try to get to his feet or get away. The powerful weapon had ripped completely through him. It wasn't until he turned his head and saw Daniel holding Neal captive that true fear spread across his face.

"Daniel...let him go." Robert said weakly.

"I am, your death is going to set him free!" Daniel was yelling at Robert but he kept his eyes locked on Neal's. "I'm setting us both free."

"I...I...should have gotten help..." Robert panted. "I'm sorry, Daniel..."

"The only thing you're sorry about is that I'm not more like Neal!"

"I...I failed you..."

"You hear that, Neal?" Daniel demanded. "He failed me? He gave up on me long ago. He knew I'd never be the studious, sophisticated, art snot willing to fetch whatever he sent me after that he'd been trying to raise. So he went out and hunted down a new victim to brainwash. A young sprayer with more talent than common sense."

"Daniel..." Robert pleaded "don't hurt him...please..."

"Are you afraid of losing Neal or is it your 'legacy' you're looking to protect?" Daniel spat angrily. "You don't even care that you're dying do you? What use is a blind artist anyway? You already have everything you want in life through Neal, don't you?"

"Th...this isn't...his fault...please..."

Neal's heart was racing painful as Daniel became increasingly crazed. Blood was still dripping from Daniel's nose from where the meth had been ruining his body and mind. Unable to free himself Neal stared at Daniel pleadingly. Already locked in his gaze Daniel began trembling violently.

"Don't look at me like that!" Daniel roared.

Daniel dug his fingers into Neal's arm and threw him to the floor. Staying down on all fours Neal scrambled away from Daniel and back to Robert's side. Weakened by the continuing blood loss he was no longer holding the wound. Neal put his hand down on the gory injury, however he found the blood was cold and thick. Neal carded his fingers into Robert's hair, but his mentor was gone. Neal reached up and closed Robert's sightless eyes.

Neal sat back on his heels and bowed his head as tears slipped silently down his face. Robert had been the only one who had ever encouraged his passion for art, even his own mother had dissuaded him from what she had considered a disgraceful way for a Texas man to spend his time. Not even Daniel had accepted Neal for who he was or who he wanted to be.

The sound of the antique gun being cocked once more pulled Neal's attention away from his sorrow. He looked over his shoulder and found Daniel taking unsteady aim at him. Neal's eyes darted to the discarded and now empty bag of meth on the floor at Daniel's feet. Neal didn't even recognize the man threatening to end his life. Daniel had probably taken the meth to stop his shaking, but the drug mixed with his own adrenaline only made matters worse.

"Daniel, he's dead...it's just you and me now." Neal said in an attempt to calm Daniel. "Please, put the gun down."

"I...I..." Daniel stuttered as he kept the weapon trained on Neal. "I can't let you turn in to him..."

"So you're going to gun me down in cold blood?" Neal asked seriously. "Daniel..."

"Be quiet! Stop talking!"

"No." Neal snarled as he got to his feet and turned on Daniel. "I'm not going to make this easy for you. You want to kill me you have to look me in the eyes and do it!"

"Neal, I...I just want..."

"You want what?" Neal demanded angrily as he stepped up to press the muzzle of the gun against his chest. "What's best for me? You want to save me from myself, is that it? Then do it! Save me from myself! Pull the trigger and save me!"

"Neal..."

"Pull the fucking trigger, Daniel!"

Despite being the one with the gun Daniel was the one with the expression of terror painted across his face. Breathing heavily Neal just stood with the weapon pressed over his heart. He stared Daniel down, silently daring him to finish what he'd started. Neal wasn't even sure why he was doing it, but he had no plans to back down now.

Neal nearly collapsed in relief when Daniel dropped the gun. He reached up and put his hand on Daniel's cheek. White powder from the crushed meth still stained Daniel's upper lip. Neal had been so used to Daniel being the one protecting him that it had never occurred to him that Daniel was just as young as he was.

"I'm sorry, Daniel."

"So am I...forgive me."

"Is it tru..."

Before Neal could finished his question to ask Daniel if he had been telling the truth about the abuse Daniel's expression returned to one of rage fueled determination. Grabbing Neal's arm in his vice like grip he spun him around and slammed him down back first onto the sturdy work table. Sweeping his arm across the table Neal knocked over bottles of spirits and caustic chemicals that were part of his trade. Daniel held him down with one arm while he grab a steel flask and opened it with his teeth.

"Daniel!" Neal cried out. "What are you doing?"

"If you can't see, you can't be his legacy."

"Daniel, no!"

"I'm sorry, Neal, I have to do this."

"No you don't! Let me go!" Neal weld his eyes shut as Daniel threatened to pour the dangerous chemical on him.

"Open your eyes!" Daniel demanded.

"No! Daniel, this is insane, pleas..."

"I swear to God I will kill you if you don't let me do this!"

Startled by the serious threat in Daniel's voice Neal made the mistake of looking up at him. Daniel took the opportunity and splashed the corrosive agent across Neal's face. The powerful turpentine was cold against his skin at first, but it quickly turned to a searing pain as it seeped into Neal's eyes. Crying out in shock Neal bucked hard against Daniel.

Assuming that the damage was done Daniel released his captive. Neal instantly reached up and clawed at the burning turpentine. His eyes were watering, but it didn't seem to be alleviating the pain. Free from Daniel's grip Neal frantically scrambled away from him, crawling over the work table. Neal fell off the far side of the table and landed in a tangle on the floor.

"Neal? Are you okay?"

Disoriented and blinded Neal kept seeking an escape from his friend turned foe. He bumped into a small set of drawers that he kept his best paint brushes in. Neal also kept his father's gun in the top drawer. Everything was out of focus but he could still see the outlines of shapes. When he caught sight of movement he ripped the drawer open and drew the weapon on Daniel.

"Neal..."

"Stay away!" Neal barked and he flicked off the safety and cocked the gun.

"I'm not going to hurt you." Daniel said as he continued to approach. "It's done, it's over. Let me help you."

"Get away from me!" Neal got to his feet, keeping his aim in the direction of Daniel's voice.

"Neal, I'm so sor..."

Backing up to get away from Daniel Neal tripped over an easel in the cluttered studio. Falling backwards Neal landed hard. Spasmodically gripping the gun tighter the blood on his hands from Robert caused his fingers to slip. Pulling back on the trigger the gun went off with a sharp crack. Daniel didn't cry out, he didn't make a sound. He simply collapsed to the floor like a dropped rag doll.

Fighting to catch his breath Neal laid in the pile of broken easels and torn canvas. He expected to feel Daniel's hand around his throat at any moment, but he'd lost the will to fight any further. The minutes ticked by and there was nothing but silence. Slowly sitting up Neal rubbed at his eyes to try and clear them, but all he could see were indistinct colors and shapes. His heart slammed painful against his ribs as he realized that there was no motion in the room.

"Da...Daniel? Daniel? Daniel!"

Back in the present Neal couldn't continue the rest of the story. Peter didn't press him for any more details, he already knew how it ended. Neal dragged his hands through his hair a few times before leaning forward and resting his elbows on his lap. Peter stayed quiet while Neal worked through the memory. Neal was staring at the mostly untouched wine cooler on the coffee table that had long since gone warm.

"I never meant to hurt him, Peter, I swear." Neal whispered. "I certainly didn't want to kill him. I loved him like a brother, and I miss him every day."

"I believe you."

"I shouldn't have taken the safety off, I should never have pointed the gun at him in the first place. Never point a weapon at anything you don't intend to kill, that's like the first rule of gun ownership, right?"

"Daniel was a threat, the fact that you didn't shoot him the first chance you got says a lot."

"I really thought that I was going to be blind the rest of my life. I almost turned the gun on myself that night...but in the end I was too cowardly, I took the only name I had left and ran."

"Opting out of suicide is never the act of a coward."

Neal nodded half heartedly and fell back into silence. Peter could see him losing focus once more as he drifted back to the past. Peter was surprised that Neal managed to normally be so light hearted and care free in his everyday life. Somehow he had recovered and learned to love life and forget consequences once again. The events had left a scar, but not a wound. It became a bit clearer to Peter why a simple four years in prison had done little to temper Neal's love of his con artist life style. Still right now Neal was eerily quiet and detached.

"Neal? Are you okay?"

"Fine. It's actually a relief to finally to have shared it."

"A secret like that is a difficult one to live with alone."

"It has been, although clearly it didn't change me that much." Neal said, mimicking Peter's thoughts.

"Well, what other skills did you have once you were out on your own?" Peter asked with his new understanding.

"None." Neal managed a slight smile. "Can I tell you one more thing before you pick up your badge?"

"Of course." Peter replied.

"The Monet, the one Walters has," Neal hesitated "it's not a forgery."

"What?"

"The painting that Walter's showed me was aged. I had just finished the Monet, the paint wasn't even dry, let alone aged. It's the original, I probably destroyed my own painting when I fell and killed Daniel."

"So all this nonsense about art fingerprinting?"

"Just a con. If they had even a basic program it would have picked up on the Monet being different than the others. I'm not that good."

Peter nodded thoughtfully. This would be something he could use against Walters if he could find a way to keep Neal's name out of the original theft.

"Can I leave now?" Neal practically begged. "I'm exhausted."

"You can go. I'll deal with Walters today."

"Thank you."

Neal slowly got to his feet and headed towards the elevator. He was a few feet away when his anklet once again screeched out a warning. Neal took a single step back and stood as still as a statue. Peter got up quickly and hunted down his discarded phone. He released the tight hold on the anklet. Neal didn't move, he continued to stay bound to the spot just inside the short range.

"It's off." Peter said gently.

Neal said nothing, he just took the few extra steps it took to get to his destination. The elevator came quickly and he stepped on it. Peter wondered if Neal was going to just go down stairs or if he'd go over to Sara's. Peter didn't have any intention of staying in the penthouse much longer, but he figured that Neal needed some space at the moment so he'd wait a few minutes before leaving. The phone in his hand started ringing. If it was Walters he wasn't going to answer it. When he saw that it was Diana he decided to take the call.

"Burke, here."

"Hey, Boss, I don't have the record unsealed yet, I'm coming into some red tape since I don't have an official case open on Daniel White. But I found out why it was sealed."

Peter listened to the rest of what little Diana had learned. Stunned by the reason behind the sealed file he barely noticed when Diana hung up. He closed his phone and stared at it for a moment before putting it away. Despite the fact that this new information contradicted the story he had just heard Peter knew that Neal hadn't lied to him, he simply didn't know the truth. Unsure of what to do next Peter put his hands on his hips and stared out over the grassy Washington Mall.

"Daniel survived..."


	15. Chapter 15

White Collar: The Eye of Sita

Chapter Sixteen

"Got cha!"

Sara had jumped up out of the office chair as she paused the surveillance tape. When Neal hadn't returned after announcing that he was off to get arrested Sara had gone back to the real reason she was stuck in D.C. She had spent the past eight hours painstakingly going through hundreds of hours of digital tape of the Smithsonian. With nearly two hundred cameras set up in the vast museum a single day could produce close to two thousand hours of footage.

Finding Neal in the Hope Diamond room had been easy. Tracking down a recognizable photo of his mysterious friend had been far more difficult. Even the shot she had frozen on the screen wasn't great, with his face turned away from the camera it only gave the viewer a glimpse of his ear and part of his cheek line. It would be useless for identification if it didn't also show that the man had a fairly significant scar that looked like it started at the corner of his eye and tore back from there over his ear.

"Can't be too many people in the world walking around with a scar like that."

Sara printed off the frozen frame. Unlike most surveillance cameras the Smithsonian had a full color system. The man she was interested in clearly knew where each and ever camera was and had worked hard to work the angles. Tracing him back from when he bumped into Neal in the Hope Diamond room Sara learned that he had arrived at the museum over an hour before Neal and had waited for him.

The exchange between then had lasted only seconds. Neal had turned in the wrong direction to spot his stalker before he'd been lost in the crowd. Sara watched the meeting footage again. Even in slow motion it was difficult to see what had happened between them. The best clue she had was from Neal's reaction. Clearly startled Neal had left the Smithsonian in as close to a panic as Sara had ever seen him. The other man had mixed in with the crowd and then disappeared from the footage, or at least from the footage that Sara had been willing and able to go through.

"Whoever you are, you've got Neal spooked and that's not easy." Sara mused as she studied the picture she had printed out.

There was no doubt in Sara's mind that she was looking at the Hope Diamond thief. She couldn't draw any conclusions on if he was a friend or rival of Neal's since those two definitions always seemed to turn into just one big gray area with him. In the end she didn't care, she just wanted the diamond back. In the war between Law-men and Criminals Sara had always considered herself to be Switzerland. It didn't matter which side won, as long as she retrieved whatever stolen prize she was after.

Sara stretched out her sore back and glanced up at the clock that hung on the wall of the small Smithsonian security review room. It was close to six. Thinking of the cat and mouse game that Neal and the Art Crime department constantly played she wondered if the Law side had finally won. She got out her cell phone, but she didn't have any missed calls.

"If he'd ended up with 'one phone call' there's no reason he would have used it on me."

Carefully folding the picture of her prey Sara tucked it away in her purse. Purposefully avoiding the Smithsonian's head curator Sara signed out of the security offices and left. The curator was physically ill over having the Hope Diamond stolen on his watch and was even less happy about having a reproduction out on display. If he caught her he would question her for the next hour on if she had any leads, and it just wasn't something she wanted to deal with right now.

Walking into the hotel Sara was instantly approached by a well dressed woman. The tag on her lapel identified her as the hotel manager. The woman came up and discretely offered Sara her business card. Sara instinctively took the offered card, a ritual that she was very accustom to in her world.

"If Nick is any good please give him my number," the manager said in a low tone "let him know I have plenty of high class clients here."

Sara wasn't sure how to react to the front desk manager and she didn't have time to figure it out. The woman acted as if nothing had happened and just kept walking past. Feeling that Neal had something to do with the odd encounter Sara made her way up to her hotel room.

Opening the door she was not surprised to find Neal sleeping on the couch. With his jacket and tie on the coffee table and his shoes on the floor he'd obviously made a conscious decision to sleep there rather than having simply fallen asleep waiting for her. Sara wasn't sure how she felt about him just inviting himself into her hotel room without so much as a phone call.

Sara went over to the small safe that was set into the wall next to the kitchenette behind a painting that was on a hinge. The electronic combination was changed for each new guest, but Sara had also reset it herself. Typing in the new code she took the picture she'd printed out of her purse and placed it inside.

Sara had always assumed that Neal would be a light sleeper, but she'd quickly discovered that he slept soundly. He always claimed to know when she slipped out of his bed in the middle of the night, but she knew that wasn't true. Finding herself a little annoyed with him for letting her worry all day she walked over to the end of the couch and flicked the bottom of his foot in the center of the arch.

Jolted awake by the well placed strike Neal jerked his foot away from the unexpected assault. Looking disoriented he stared up at her in surprise. Quickly figuring his surroundings out Neal smiled at her and reached up to invite her to lay down with him. Sara remained standing and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Sara..."

"How did you get in here?"

"I told the front desk that the agency sent me at your request."

"Agency?" Sara repeated confused. "What agency?"

Remaining comfortably laying on the couch Neal's mischievous chuckle answered her question.

"Ohmygod, that's what the manager was talking about. Neal, don't you have any shame?" Sara demanded. "Do you have any idea how much trouble I'd be in if my work was told that I had ordered a...a..."

"'Escort' is the politically correct term."

"Get out." Sara huffed as she picked up his jacket and threw it at him.

"Okay, but there are no refunds."

Putting the jacket aside Neal sat up, but rather than getting to his feet he reached up and took a hold of Sara's wrists. When he tried to gently pull her down onto the couch she resisted at first. She was hoping to hear an apology from him for conning his way into her hotel room, but he didn't seem to even realize he'd done anything wrong.

When Neal persisted in his invitation Sara sighed and gave in. Neal guided her to lay down on his chest before wrapping his arms around her. Content to just hold her Neal settled down further into the plush couch and closed his eyes. Sara folded her arms over his chest so that she could prop her head up to look at him. She waited for him to explain himself, but she could feel his breathing slowing down as he started to drift off to sleep.

"Neal?"

"Yes?" Neal replied sleepily.

"You alright?"

"I've rarely been better." Neal purred.

"What happened last night?"

"Just a misunderstanding." Neal shrugged as best he could under Sara's weight.

"You're not going to tell me what they wanted, are you?" Sara sighed.

Sara's tone caught Neal's attention and he opened his eyes. Sara was surprised by how weary he looked. She noticed now that his bright blue eyes were rimmed in red. Even though his smile was unchanged from his usual confident self there was something subtly different in his expression. She wasn't sure what it was, but it made him look older, less boyish than usual.

"Walters had some forgeries that he was convinced were mine." Neal offered. "They weren't even very high quality, and he had no record of them being sold. So there's no real case."

"Walters dragged you and Peter down to D.C for that?" Sara asked doubtfully.

"Oh no." Neal smiled. "He drag Peter and I down here in a poorly planned attempt to embarrass Peter and steal his job."

"So...where's the 'misunderstanding'?"

"He severely overestimated my desire to get out of my anklet."

"Even I know that if you wanted to leave that little piece of plastic wouldn't keep you in New York."

"The fact that you know me better than Walters bodes well for our future together." Neal teased.

Having given her an explanation Neal closed his eyes again. He traced one hand up and down Sara's back aimlessly. Sara watched him for a moment. Although he looked perfectly peaceful she couldn't help feel that there was a lot more to his story. Eventually he noticed that he was being stared at and opened his eyes again. With a warm smile he held her tighter.

"Where would you go?" Sara asked suddenly "If you could go anywhere."

"What kind of resources do I have in this hypothetical relocation?" Neal asked without missing a beat. "Am I on the run? Or free to go as I please?"

"Free to go, and let's say...250 million."

"The estimated value of the Hope Diamond." Neal pointed out.

"Really?" Sara asked with mock innocents. "It's just a hypothetical, if Neal Caffrey could go anywhere in the world, where would it be?"

"Are you coming with me?"

"Depends on where you decide to go."

"Why do I get the feeling that this line of questioning is far more dangerous than a simple curiosity as to my favorite cities?" Neal asked suspiciously. "This feels like one of those 'female tests', like there is some correct answer and you're going to be mad at me if I don't get it right."

"Always looking for the angle, aren't you?" Sara sighed sadly. "Always looking for the trap."

Disheartened with the turn that the conversation had quickly taken Sara went to get up. Sensing that she was pulling away more than just physically Neal carded his hand into her hair and guided her into a deep kiss. At first Sara didn't mind, but then she realized that the strong physical connection was what the entire relationship was based on. To his credit the instant Sara stopped returning the affection Neal stopped as well.

Neal released her, but Sara didn't get up. Torn with indecision she laid her head down against his chest so that she could hear his heart. Neal's heart rate was slow and steady, it didn't show any signs of stress. She wanted to trust him, to believe that they had a chance at a future, but she couldn't convince herself that either one of those things was going to happen. She could feel Neal slowly growing more tense as the silence became increasingly awkward.

"Sara..."

"Maybe you should just go." Sara interrupted quietly.

"I'm sorry."

"You didn't do anything wrong, Neal. It's just...it's just that I have a job to get done here, and you're exactly the kind of distraction I don't need right now. We can talk when we're both back in New York."

"'Talk'." Neal repeated with a heavy sigh. "I know what that means."

"I'm not ending things, Neal."

"Then what do you want from me?" Neal asked. "I don't want to lose what we have...but I don't think I'm ready to say anything along the lines of 'I love you' yet."

"That's good, because I'm *really* not ready to hear anything along those lines from you yet."

"So what is going on? What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Sara lied.

"You think I stole the Hope Diamond."

Sara didn't react to the accusation right away. She already had a timeline of the window when the diamond had been stole and all of Neal's movements during that time. Sara was not about to admit to him that she had accessed his tracking information through less than legal means. However, even though he had been off anklet for a short time while undercover during the window, he'd been working on the far side of the city from the diamond. The chances were very slim that he had physically taken it himself.

"Well?" Neal demanded. "Do you think I have it?"

"No, but I think you know who does."

"I don't. I swear."

"Let's say I believe you..."

"Which you don't." Neal pointed out.

"Try seeing things from my perspective." Sara said defensively. "A leopard can't change his spots, Neal. Not even if he wants to."

"That doesn't mean the leopard stole the Hope Diamond." Neal replied in frustration. "I'm not lying to you. I don't know who has it, and I don't know how to make you believe me."

"Just answer me this: what was in your breast pocket that was so important?"

"Breast pocket?"

"When you were at the Smithsonian, the man that dropped the diamonds in your pocket, he came up on your right side, said something into your left ear so you'd turn that way and then he reached one hand into your side pocket and slipped the other skillfully into your breast pocket, pulled something out and melted into the crowd. He clearly knew you."

"He lifted something and dropped the diamonds at the same time? That's not easy."

"One fluid motion, it took seconds. You didn't even notice, did you? I was impressed, I doubt you could have done it better."

"Wha...what did he look like?" Neal asked anxiously.

"He played all the camera angles so I didn't get a good look. However he was about six three, tan skin, your age, blonde hai..."

Sara yelped in surprise as Neal suddenly sat bolt upright. Having still been laying on Neal's chest she had been dumped onto the floor. The panic she'd seen in his eyes on the Smithsonian tape had returned with a vengeance. Before Sara could try to get off the floor herself Neal reached down and lifted her up and set her down on the couch.

"Wha..."

"I have to go."

"Neal..."

Sara stopped, there wasn't any point. Neal had bolted without so much as putting his shoes on. The door slammed behind him and she could hear him actually running down the hall. Whatever was going on he certainly wasn't going to share it with her. Sitting back Sara stared up at the ceiling.

"I need to accept Neal's spots...or I need to move on."


	16. Chapter 16

White Collar: The Eye of Sita

Chapter Sixteen

After staring out the penthouse suite window for a while Peter decided that avoiding Neal wasn't going to solve anything. Getting in the elevator he headed down to the room. It didn't take more than a glance for Peter to realize that Neal hadn't returned to their room. He didn't need to look up Neal's tracking data, he knew exactly where he'd gone.

"I'm sure Sara can be more help that I can right now."

Looking around the empty room Peter tried to think of a reason to not go down to the Art Crimes office. Without a decent excuse in mind he resigned to his fate and left. Getting in his car he drove the short distance to the office. When he got up to the floor where the Art Crimes division was housed it was pure chaos. Peter looked around as everyone in the office was in 'full work panic mode'. Peter stopped one of the younger agents.

"What's going on?"

"I'm sorry, Agent Burke, it's classified."

Peter figured that the NSA must have finally told Art Crimes about the Hope Diamond. He hated to admit it, but he still had the black diamond and the sixteen white ones that had been part of the Hope setting. Peter still wasn't sure what the best way to turn them in was yet. Making his way to Walters' office he found the door open. Walters' normally clean desk had become a sea of background files and paperwork as he started his hunt for a suspect.

"Agent Walters." Peter greeted.

"Burke, what do you want?" Walters asked without looking up.

"You arrested my partner last night, remember?"

"I don't have time for you or Caffrey anymore," Walters said gruffly "go back to New York. Take your thief with you."

"Anything going on around here that I can help with?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

"About those paintin..."

"You can take them if it means you'll leave me alone and let me get back to work."

"You have my number if you need anything."

"Get out."

Peter took a breath to tell Walters that he already knew about the missing diamond, but he decided against it. At this point the only thing that admitting to knowing about the Hope could get him would be an eighteen hour interrogation as to how he knew. Dragging Neal's name into it wouldn't help. Peter knew Neal didn't have the diamond and he didn't have enough information on Daniel to suspect him either.

Although Peter hated the idea of not being on the team looking for the Hope he couldn't think of a gracefully way to get involved. It was Walters' case and if he solved it his career would be set for life. It would probably be an even better way of getting Peter's job than all this nonsense with the forgeries. Giving in for now Peter went down to evidence to collect the Monet. He hadn't figured out how he was going to get that back to Paris without getting Neal extradited to France yet either.

"I have got to get out of D.C." Peter muttered to himself.

Peter had the Monet released into his custody. The evidence room didn't mind freeing up some space by handing it over and easily allowed him to sign them out. Rather than carry a Monet around Peter arranged to have them transported by evidence to New York.

Trying to figure out what his next move should be Peter felt that he couldn't just leave D.C with the Hope Diamond missing. Particularly when he had a good lead on a possible suspect. He gave Diana a quick call to see if she'd gotten the file unsealed, however Texas wasn't thrilled with sharing their information with New York when there currently wasn't an official case open.

Going back upstairs Peter asked one of his old friends if he could borrow his office for a moment. The Agent was heading out to do some interviews anyway and unlocked the door for Peter. Logging onto the computer Peter was able to remotely access his own computer files in New York.

Peter started the painstaking task of hunting down old archives of newspaper reports. Although the official web sites for the papers did have files dating back that far Peter had access to sites devoted to nothing more than scanned copies of periodicals. The trouble was the fact that they weren't searchable with keywords, they needed to be scanned. Having an exact date made finding the first few articles easy. Details on the case after that point simply could not be found.

Robert Caffrey had been a fairly large name in Houston at the time of his death. A wealthy eccentric businessman with several enterprises. His violent death had made headlines for days. The police had kept the media out of case for the most part. The media had responded with speculation and wild guesses, everything from a home invasion to a cartel hit. Nothing seemed to mention Daniel by name or even description.

Peter was surprised by how well the police had managed to protect their young suspect. Usually when the media sunk its teeth into something they found at least part of the truth. Hours of searching through various channels didn't yield much better results. He found the medical records sealed up even tighter than the criminal ones. There didn't seem to be any public record of Daniel White after that bloody night. If he had truly had survived he must have changed his identity and done it well.

Deciding to look to the past Peter was able to find a record of Daniel's birth. It wasn't much, just a simple registration for a Birth Certificate and a Social Security number. Scanning through the papers dated five years later he found the article on his parents.

"Fatal Crash Kills 2." Peter read the headline out loud. "Local artists Tom White, 32, and Rebecca White, 28, were killed in an auto accident..."

The article didn't mention the son they had left behind. Daniel didn't have any foster or adoption paperwork that Peter could find. There was no school record, it wasn't until he was sixteen that he showed up in the record again having applied for a driver's license. Peter looked at the address on the license and found that it didn't match with Robert Caffrey's address.

"A background almost as empty as Neal's."

Peter wondered if Daniel's past was so clean because Caffrey had intended on taking him in as true family one day, or if it was to hide the fact that he existed at all. If Daniel had gone to the police it would have been feasible for Caffrey to deny that he even knew Daniel. It would have been the word of a homeless teen against a well respected business mogul.

Feeling tired Peter looked at his watched and realized with surprise that it was nearly six thirty. With not much to show for the day spent digging into Daniel's past Peter got up to leave. The Art Crimes division was still busy with their new case and they would probably be burning the midnight oil on this one until it was solved.

"If it gets solved." Peter sighed. "If Daniel is just as good as Neal without the need to flaunt, he might just get away with it."

Something about the fact that the Hope Diamond was such a high profile theft made Peter realize that it really wouldn't fit in with Daniel's old MO of keeping below the radar. Peter went down stairs to the parking garage and got into his car still thinking about what could have motivated Daniel to suddenly pull off such a high risk job. Sitting in his car Peter put his keys in the ignition.

Before he could start the engine there was a sudden flurry of motion from the back seat. Peter quickly found a length of white silk around his throat that was pulled tight by his attacker. Instinct caused him to reach up with both hands to try and free the pressure that was threatening to choke him.

"Relax and put your hands on the wheel." A deep voice ordered calmly. "Move very slowly, go for your gun and I will break your neck."

Pinned to the seat and struggling to breathe Peter had no doubt that his attacker had the physical power to end this quickly if he decided to. It went against all instinct to let go of the binding around his throat to slowly reached out and put his hands on the wheel, but he did as he was told. As soon as his hands were on the wheel the man released some of the pressure on his throat.

A hand snaked around from the backseat and dove into Peter's jacket to steal his weapon from his shoulder holster. He fully expected the assailant to give up on the ligature in favor of the gun. However, he could hear the man skillfully dismantling the gun with one hand and dropping the parts on the floor in the back seat. Even without seeing the man Peter was fairly certain who it was.

"I see you don't like guns either."

"Start the car and drive." The man growled. "I installed a camera so I can see where we are going."

Peter looked over on the dashboard and saw that there was a small device stuck to it in the far corner. The intruder laid down in the back seat but kept hold of the long length of silk. When Peter didn't start the car his attacker reminded him that it would be best to follow orders by tightening his hold.

"Drive, Agent Burke, or I will kill you."

"I don't think you will."

"If you want any chance of getting the Hope Diamond back, you'll drive."

Despite his violent methods the man's voice suggested that he was far more interested in getting help than hurting anyone. Feeling reasonably sure that he wasn't going to get himself killed Peter started the car. The man had someway of viewing what the small camera was recording and gave Peter turn by turn directions through the twisted streets of D.C. It was already dark, which made getting a good look of the man in the rearview mirror difficult.

Peter was instructed onto one of the highways and they were quickly out of city limits. After about twenty minutes they came to a fairly lonely exit ramp. Driving through the suburbs Peter was eventually instructed to pull into a large school parking lot. Being just after seven o'clock the lot was empty.

When they came to a stop Peter turned off the car and looked over his shoulder. His attacker allowed him enough slack to face him however the man kept a hold of the silk as he sat up. As Peter suspected he was Neal's age, dark eyes, with blonde hair. The handsome young man's only noticeable flaw was a devastating scar that ran from the corner of his left eye back to above his ear where it left a bare mark in his shortly cut hair along its path. Peter could imagine a gun shot wound like that would have rendered him unconscious and there would have been enough blood to make anyone think he was dead.

"Daniel White."

"So you do know who I am." Daniel smiled sadly. "I'm surprised that Neal would talk about me, even to you. Although I haven't gone by 'White' in a long time, it's 'Caffrey' now."

"Certainly the last name anyone would think to look for you under."

"I didn't take the name to hide, I took it to help Neal."

"What?"

"Reputation is everything in our line of work. Do you really think someone as young as Neal could have been involved in all of the crimes he's attributed to?"

"I always assumed he took 'credit' for other people's work, I just didn't realize that it was another Caffr...wait a minute, you're the reason he was so hard to catch."

"Only part of it." Daniel corrected.

"I always wondered how he seemed to be in two places at once, some the 'Caffrey' leads we were following were you."

"It worked for years, but when he returned to New York the second time...well there really wasn't anything I could do to keep you from catching him."

"You could have killed me." Peter pointed out.

"That's not who I am." Daniel replied simply.

"So you're not going to kill me now?"

"It is not my intention to hurt you."

"Then let me go."

"I wish I could trust you the way Neal does," Daniel said honestly "but I'm not ready for that just yet."

"If you're not looking to kill me, what do you want from me?"

"I need your help."

"Assaulting me was not a good start."

"I know. I'm sorry." Daniel apologized sincerely.

"Did you steal the Hope Diamond?" Peter asked bluntly.

"I did." Daniel admitted freely. "I didn't have a choice. I retired from that life as soon as Neal was behind bars. I was forced back into the business to steal the Hope. I brought you and Neal to D.C. to get it back."

"You sent the paintings to Walters."

"He really hates you, he didn't ask any questions." Daniel chuckled exactly the same way Neal did. "I gave Neal the setting diamonds to let you both know it had been stolen since I knew Walters would never ask for your help on this. I was going to leave it at that, but there has been a complication."

"No complication, just give me the stone and leave."

"I don't have the diamond anymore. The man who hunted me down for the job has it...he also has my son."

"Your son?"

"He's only four." Daniel said fighting tears. "He is everything to me. They took him as 'insurance' that I would do the job, but I did it and they still won't give him back."

"Do you have a name?"

"No. Everything was done over the phone with a voice scrambler. They said I could have him back in a month, but I don't believe them. Please, Agent Burke, find the diamond and you'll find my son."

"Daniel...even if I could help you, I wouldn't know where to start."

"The only lead I have is that the man I talked to refused to refer to the stone as the Hope Diamond."

"What did he call it?"

"'The Eye of Sita'."

"Sita?"

"Ask Neal, he'll tell you the story."

"Come back with m..."

Peter was interrupted by Daniel pulling the silk around his neck tight again. Forced to face forward again Peter tried to keep calm. Daniel was becoming increasingly agitated the longer they stayed in the empty parking lot. Peter's cell phone suddenly rang startling them both.

"Just let it go to voice mail." Daniel said.

"It will be Neal, he's looking for me. This car has GPS, he'll be smart enough to find me."

"I'm counting on that."

"Dani..."

"I just want to thank you, Agent Burke."

"I haven't agreed to anything yet."

"Not for my son, but for what you've done for Neal." Daniel clarified. "Growing up I couldn't help him, four years in prison did nothing to change him, but some how you've managed to do both."

"You've been watching him all these years?"

"I haven't been stalking him or anything, but I've always kept tabs on what he's been up to, what he's doing with his life."

"But you've always kept your distance. You know he thinks he killed you, right?"

"It's complicated, I never meant to step into his life again...but I'm desperate now. Please, I don't have anyone to turn to."

"Daniel, this isn't the best way to help your son." Peter said gently. "Come back to the F.B.I with me, I promise we will do everything we can to get your son back. I can't use my channels and resources if I don't have an official case to work with. Right now I'm not even supposed to know the Hope Diamond is missing."

"You'll find a way." Daniel said confidently. "You won't just walk away from a child in danger and a missing national treasure. Forget the official channels, we both know that's what you have Neal for."

"Doesn't Neal deserve to see that you're alive?"

Watching Daniel in the rear view mirror Peter could see that he had struck a nerve. Fighting tears once more Daniel rested his forehead on the back of Peter's seat. He still had a tight grip on the silk around Peter's throat, but Peter was starting to think that if he just pulled away that Daniel wouldn't stop him. He was just about to test his theory when Daniel brought his head back up.

"Agent Burke, I'm really sorry for what I have to do next." Daniel said suddenly. "But you're the kind of Agent that I know I need a good head start against."

"Daniel, wai..."

Peter was cut off as Daniel suddenly tightened the cord that had been holding him hostage. Violently jerked back Peter managed a short cry, but all he'd accomplished was to release what little air was left in his chest. Unable to breath Peter struggled to free himself from the painful garrote. Trying to get his fingers under the tight ligature he started to black out as his lungs burned from the lack of oxygen. Still weakly clawing at the silk around his throat Peter felt Daniel's breath on the back of his neck as he put his lips against his ear.

"Tell Neal that I love him, but I don't expect his forgiveness."


	17. Chapter 17

Note from the Phoenix: I'm pleased to see how much you guys enjoyed hearing from Daniel again...even if he did strangle Peter. Prepare yourself for the 'title sequence' at the end of this chapter!

* * *

><p>White Collar: The Eye of Sita<p>

Chapter Seventeen

"Peter?"

Neal called out for his friend even though it was obvious that he wasn't in the hotel room. Still somewhat breathless from running over here Neal pulled out his cell phone and dialed Peter. The phone rang to voice mail. Reminding himself that there were plenty of reasons for Peter not to answer Neal did his best to keep calm.

"It can't be Daniel, he was dead, I know he was..."

Unsure of who he was trying to convince Neal waited a few minutes before calling Peter again. This time when he didn't answer Neal started pacing, looking down he briefly noted that he must have left his shoes at Sara's. Hanging up Neal dialed in to the Art Crimes office and asked to be connected to Walters. Although it was seven thirty Walters was still in.

"Walters, here." He answered wearily.

"Agent Walters..."

"Caffrey," Walters snarled "don't think for one moment that I haven't figured out that you were just jerking me around last night. Nice touch with the tears, however I don't appreciated it. Don't expect any favors or leniency from Art Crimes in the future."

"I was just wondering if Peter's with you."

"He left my office hours ago."

"Where did he go?"

"How the hell should I know?"

"Agent Walters, I think Peter is in trouble." Neal said seriously.

"Good."

"Agen..."

It was too late Walter hung up with a loud clatter. Neal ground his teeth together in frustration. He knew he shouldn't have even bothered asking Walters for help. Not giving up easily Neal dialed another number.

"Neal?" Diana answered having seen him on her caller ID. "What's wrong?"

"I can't find Peter. He's not answering his phone."

"How long has he been missing?"

"Officially...about five minutes."

"Jumping the gun a little aren't we, Neal?" Diana ask seriously. "Peter's a big boy, he can take care of himself. He probably just needs some time away from you, Lord know I would by this time."

"Diana, please, this is serious. Something big has happened here."

"What?"

"I can't tell you."

"Then I can't help you." Diana replied simply.

"All I want you to do is look up his cell phone GPS location." Neal explained. "If he is somewhere he should be then there's no harm."

"Neal, I'm home. It will take me half an hour to get into the office. If you know for a fact that this is an emergency then I can call it in...but you know how pissed Peter will be if he's just out grabbing a quiet dinner somewhere."

"You're right." Neal admitted.

"Peter has to keep track of you, not the other way around."

"I'm sure he's fine."

"If he's still missing in a few hours call me."

"I will, thanks Diana."

"Your welcome."

Neal hung up, but he still wasn't convinced that everything was okay. He dialed Peter again, if he was just out at dinner he'd be annoyed enough by the ringing to answer. Once again the call ended in voice mail. Tired of getting nowhere with the phone Neal hurriedly made his way back to Sara's.

"Neal?" Sara asked as she opened the door. "I'm getting a little tired of you just inviting yourself over here and then running off without any explanations."

"Do you have a cell phone GPS locator?"

"Those are illegal for civilian use."

"I know that." Neal snapped. "Do you have one?"

"Neal, what's going on?"

"I need to know where Peter is, can you find his phone or not?"

Neal was still standing out in the hall, when he took a step forward to come into Sara's room she took a nervous step back. Suddenly realizing how strange his behavior must seem to her Neal backed away to give her some space. Sara watched him cautiously, clearly waiting for either an explanation or for him to disappear again. Neal sighed in defeat.

"Sara, the man you were asking me about might be Daniel White. He is someone from my past that I thought was dead, but recent events are starting to make me question that. If he is alive: he probably took the Hope Diamond. He is also very dangerous and now I can't find Peter."

"The locator is in my car. I'll get my keys."

Neal smiled at Sara's willingness to help now that she had a simple explanation. While she grabbed her keys Neal retrieved his shoes. Sara went over to the small wall safe and opened it. She brought over a folded print out and handed it to Neal. Opening the photo Neal gasped sharply. He hadn't truly believed that Daniel was alive until he had the photo in his hands.

"Daniel..."

"What does he want from you?"

"Revenge."

"What did you do to him?"

"I gave him that scar."

Neal folded up the photo and put it in his pocket. Sara started to protest, but she thought better of it. She lead Neal down to her car and started up her in-dash GPS. The regular program came on the small screen, but she typed a few commands and a password into it and a new program opened up. Sitting in the passenger seat something on the screen caught Neal's attention.

"How does your car know I'm here?" Neal asked.

"Uh..." Sara blushed.

"You can track my anklet." Neal smiled. "How do you do that?"

"I might have a friend who has a friend who knows your GPS identification number." Sara admitted with a nervous smile.

"You were checking to see that I wasn't anywhere near the Hope when it was stolen."

"Do you blame me?"

"Not really." Neal said.

Sara flashed Neal a more relaxed smile and then punched Peter's number into the illegal program. It took the system a few minutes to triangulate the signal off the surrounding cell phone towers. When it did finally find the location it was stationary.

"He's about six miles from here, or at least his phone is." Sara said. "The signal's not moving."

"You should stay here, I'll go check it out."

"Oh no, my car, my software, my job to find that diamond."

Sara didn't leave any room for arguing and started the car. With little choice in the matter Neal put his seat belt on and stared out the window. He tried Peter's cell phone one last time with the same results as before. They quickly got on the highway heading away from the city. Neal's thoughts shifted between trying to think of a good reason for Peter to have driven out here to how angry Daniel must be with him.

"He thinks I left him to die on purpose..." Neal muttered to himself. "I would never have left him..."

"Who? Peter?"

"Daniel." Neal corrected vacantly. "There was so much blood, he wasn't responding."

"This Daniel was a friend of yours then?"

"Something like that."

The mournful tone in Neal's voice kept Sara from asking any more questions. Neal tried to keep his heart from racing as they came closer to the GPS location. Getting off on a lonely exit they drove through a nice neighborhood until they came to the school. Peter's car was alone in the middle of the parking lot, he had Sara just pull into the parking lot entrance and told her to stop. Neal's stomach twisted painfully when he noticed that Peter was in the driver's seat, but he wasn't moving.

"No...no, not again..."

"Neal?" Sara asked fearfully.

"Sara, do you have your gun with you?"

"It's in the hotel safe."

"Okay, probably for the best anyway." Neal sighed. "Stay here."

"Nea..."

"Stay here." Neal repeated firmly. "If shots are fired just get out of here as quickly as you can, don't wait if you hear a shot just drive."

"I'm not just going to leave you here."

"It won't matter, I'll already be dead."

"Neal, if you think this is a trap don't go out there."

"I have to."

Sara reached over and grabbed Neal's wrist as he went to unbuckle his seat belt. He hated seeing her so frightened. Neal leaned over and kissed her cheek. Before she could argue any further he pulled away and opened the car door. Taking a deep breath he stepped out of the car and out into the dark parking lot.

Neal walked slowly towards Peter's car with his hands held out to either side palms up to prove to anyone who was watching that he was unarmed. If Daniel wanted to take him down, now would be the time. Neal didn't look around, he kept his focus on the car as he made his way across the open space. When he made it half way to the car without being shot he started to lose his nerve.

"Daniel," Neal called out "if you've hurt him you had better shoot me now, because I will hunt you down."

Holding his breath as he continued to walk Neal waited to either hear gun fire or for Daniel to step out of the shadows. Neither event happened and Neal made it safely to Peter's car. Stepping up to the driver's side Neal hooked his fingers under the handle and pulled the door open.

Peter was motionless in the reclined front seat. Neal stared in horror at the bright red mark around his throat that suggested a violent strangulation. He reached out with a shaky hand to press his fingers against Peter's throat to see if he could find a pulse. Neal jumped back with a yelp as Peter jolted awake with a painful gasp. Peter sat forward and grabbed onto the steering wheel. He shook his head to try and clear his disorientation.

"Peter?"

"Neal?" Peter replied in a hoarse whisper.

"I'm here, are you okay?"

"I think so." Peter winced. "Hurts to talk."

"Don't talk, just focus on breathing."

Peter closed his eyes and nodded as he took a few deep breaths. Neal looked over his shoulder as he heard Sara approaching slowly in her car. Although Neal tried to stop him Peter insisted on getting out of the car. He was unsteady on his feet, but Neal made sure he didn't fall. Sara parked her car a few spaces away and got out to join them.

"Sara, you should go. I'll take care of this."

"I'm not going anywhere, Neal." Sara came up and gently put her hand under Peter's jaw to guide him to look up at her. "Very little petechial hemorrhage, no trachea collapse, whoever did this wasn't trying very hard to kill you."

Peter shook his head. Still breathing heavily Peter closed his eyes and leaned back against the car for support. Making sure Peter stayed on his feet Neal kept a sharp eye out for Daniel, but they seemed to be alone.

"Was it Daniel? Is he alive?"

Peter nodded, but instantly regretted doing so.

"Peter, I am so sorry. I still don't understand how he survived, I would have sworn on my own life that he was dead. I never meant to put you in danger. I had no idea that he would come seeking revenge like this."

"Not revenge..." Peter panted painfully. "His son."

"Son?" Neal repeated in shock.

"Si...Sita. Sita."

Finding it too painful to talk Peter pressed his hand against his throat. He looked like he was about to lose his ability to stand. Neal had Sara open the door to the back seat and helped Peter lay down. Although he protested at first Peter quickly fell asleep once settled. Neal watched over him for a minute to make sure he was still okay before taking a step back and dragging his hands through his hair.

"Who names their son 'Sita'?" Sara asked confused.

"No, I don't think Peter was talking about Daniel's son, I think he was talking about the Hope."

"What?"

"Sita is a Hindu Avatar, the daughter of Lakshmi the Hindu goddess of wealth and wisdom."

"Avatar?" Sara asked still confused.

"An Earthly descended of a god or goddess."

"What does a Hindu goddess have to do with anything?"

"An old legend states that the Hope Diamond was once part of a sacred Hindu sculpture of Sita."

"A sculpture? I thought the diamond was purchased from a mine."

"Many believe that the Hope Diamond was never legally purchased, but rather originally stolen from India and brought to Europe. It's what gives the Hope Diamond its other name."

"What other name?"

"The Eye of Sita."


	18. Chapter 18

White Collar: The Eye of Sita

Chapter Eighteen

"Neal?" Sara asked nervously. "What are you doing?"

Neal didn't answer or even look up at her. He was sitting at the small bar that separated the kitchenette from the living room in Sara's hotel room. Neal had all of the pieces of Peter's weapon that Daniel had dismantled laid out in front of him. Inspecting each part he easily reassembled it and checked it over for working condition.

"I thought you didn't like guns, where did you learn to do that?" Sara asked. "I mean when you broke into my apartment to 'assassinate' me, you made me fire the gun to fake my own death."

"I didn't make you, I let you." Neal corrected with a growl.

"What?"

"I didn't want to press my luck with you that night by reaching for the loaded weapon considering you still had a gun in your hand and had already threatened to shoot me."

"You broke into my house dressed up like you were going to an audition for 'Grease' with a high powered handgun." Sara replied defensively.

"And in doing so I saved your life."

Ending the conversation by getting to his feet and walking away Neal went over to the wall safe. Without asking for the combination he tried three combinations before the safe opened. Sara came over with a look of surprise on her face.

"How did you do that?"

"It's a Guardian 230 safe, only four digits in the combination."

"With zero through nine digits that's still ten thousand possible combinations."

"You always use simple geometric shapes on the keypad for your combinations. You should probably stop doing that."

"Clearly."

Neal took Sara's gun out of the safe and checked to ensure that it was loaded. To Neal's surprise he discovered that it wasn't. He gave Sara an irritated questioning look.

"What can I say?" Sara said with a flush of embarrassment. "My bark is worse than my bite."

"Has this ever been loaded?" Neal demanded.

"No." Sara admitted. "The gun is a bluff, I don't think I could ever actually shoot someone."

"Great." Neal sighed.

"Neal, you really starting to scare me. Why are you suddenly interested in arming up for a last stand?"

Still not answering many of Sara's questions Neal handed her the gun. He went over to the couch where Peter was sleeping. Neal lifted up the ice pack that they had put on his throat to see if it was helping. Now along with the redness a deep purple line had developed where Daniel had cut off Peter's air. Peter stirred and opened his eyes to look up at Neal questioningly.

"We're at Sara's hotel, we're safe here." Neal informed calmly. "She'll letting us stay here tonight."

Still in too much pain to talk Peter just nodded slightly.

"Are you sure you don't want me to call this in to Diana? Daniel assaulted a Federal Agent, the last time I checked that was still a felony."

Peter shook his head.

"Do you really believe him about having a son?"

Peter didn't hesitate to nod.

"Okay. Get some rest, hopefully we can talk about it in the morning."

Narrowing his eyes Peter glanced at Neal's anklet.

"Don't worry, I'm not going after him." Neal replied to Peter's silent question. "I wouldn't even know how to start looking for him. He could be anywhere and I don't have any contacts to help me in D.C."

Peter's expression was still distrustful. Neal sighed heavily, he picked up Peter's jacket from the coffee table and fished his cell phone out of it. Daniel had hid Peter's keys and cell phone in the trunk of his car to keep him from calling in when he woke up. Knowing Daniel well it was the first place Neal had looked for them. Neal handed over the phone. Peter didn't seem to understand.

"If you don't trust me to not go after Daniel tonight go ahead and tighten my leash." Neal offered. "You can tie me to the phone, I don't mind as long as it gives you enough piece of mind to get some sleep."

Peter gave Neal a 'do you seriously think I'm that stupid' look.

"What?" Neal asked innocently.

Trying to talk Peter grimaced in pain. Neal watched as Peter started typing into his phone. Seconds after Peter was done Neal's phone buzzed at him. He took it out of his pocket and saw that he had a text message from Peter.

"'You'll just take the phone with you...'." Neal read out loud with a smile.

Peter glared at Neal.

"I honestly hadn't thought of that, Peter, thanks for the tip."

Peter rolled his eyes, but didn't have the strength to argue further at the moment. Putting the phone down he reached up and pressed the ice pack harder against his throat. Neal could hear his raspy breathing from the painful swelling the trauma had caused. Peter wasn't in any immediate danger, but he certainly wasn't comfortable.

"Just get some sleep. Sara will keep an eye on me."

Sara smiled nervously as Peter looked over to her. He clearly didn't trust her to keep Neal in check. However he didn't have much choice. Exhausted from the day's events Peter was forced to close his eyes once more. Neal sat on the coffee table and watched Peter to make sure he was sleeping soundly once more.

With Peter fast asleep Neal got up and went back over to Sara. She was still standing by the wall safe with her gun in hand. Neal picked up Peter's weapon off the bar and after double checking the safety he tucked it into the back of his waistband. Smiling apologetically Neal walked over and pulled her into a comforting embrace. She remained tense despite the gentle contact.

Neal took her by the wrist and lead her over to the bedroom to lay down with her. He put the gun on the end table and laid down on his back. Although it wasn't loaded Sara put her own revolver under her pillow. Not bothering with getting undressed Neal closed his eyes and settled in.

"You're really going to stay here tonight?" Sara asked.

"I told Peter I would."

"You just seemed so angry, I figured you put the gun back together to go after Daniel."

"Daniel is psychotic." Neal whispered. "I just wanted to be sure that I could protect us if I needed too."

"Do you think he'll come after us here?"

"I don't know, but I am going to be prepared if he does."

"Who is this guy?"

"An old partner in crime."

"What is it with your old partners wanting you dead?" Sara asked only half jokingly.

"My relationships don't tend to last."

Neal fell into a stony silence that Sara didn't dare break at this point. She curled up on her side next to him with her head on his chest. Only pretending to be tired Neal consciously slowed his breathing so that Sara would think he'd fallen asleep. It took her a while to trust that he wasn't going anywhere and drift off to sleep herself.

Moving very slowly Neal slipped out from under Sara, putting his pillow under her head in his place. Retrieving the gun off the night stand Neal went out to the coffee table where Peter's jacket was still laying. He fished out the shoulder harness and slipped it on. Securing the weapon in the harness Neal went through Peter's pockets and took the standard issue handcuffs and put them in his back pocket.

Neal found Peter's keys, but the small key to his anklet wasn't among them. Unable to get out of the anklet Neal did the next best thing and turned the ringer off on Peter's cell phone and put it in his pocket. He wasn't sure if Peter had set it while he'd been texting or not, this way he'd be safe either way.

Having left his own jacket at Sara's last time Neal put it on to hide the weapon he was carrying. He had absolutely no intention of just sitting back and waiting for Daniel to attack someone else important to him. After one last glance around Neal headed out. He hadn't lied about not knowing where to look for Daniel, however he had an idea for possibly flushing him out.

It was nearly eleven at night when Neal stepped out of the hotel and out onto the streets. He wasn't very familiar with the D.C area, but he was fairly certain that if he headed in any one direction long enough he'd find what he was looking for. With his hands in his pockets Neal wandered away from the more well know tourist attractions and into the actual city of D.C.

It was past midnight when Neal finally came to a more promising looking area. Walking a few blocks back from the high class restaurants and shops Neal came to the gritty back alleys of D.C. He walked past an open door way where a young woman with more make up on than clothing gave a quick whistle to get his attention.

"Hey, Baby, you buying or selling?"

"Neither at the moment." Neal replied politely.

"Well come back when you are, Sugar."

"Actually, there is something you can do for me."

"Whatever you want, if the price is right."

"I'm looking for this man." Neal reached into his back pocket and pulled out the print out of Daniel and showed the woman. "Old friend of mine."

"Can't say that I've seen him, but the photo's not much to go on."

"Thanks for you time anyway."

Neal purposefully made a show of pulling out his money clip, which was actually Peter's money clip, and peeling off a hundred dollars before putting the rest back in his pocket. The woman kept her eyes on the money like a dog staring at a table scrap. Neal gave her the hundred and thanked her again before leaving.

Walking away he could hear her wait a few seconds before going inside and closing the door. If everything was going according to plan she was busy right now calling someone to let them know an easy mark was wandering the back alleys asking to be mugged. With one hand in his pocket Neal kept on the same dirty back street, making sure to stay close to the buildings.

It didn't take more than ten minutes for Neal to get ambushed while walking past a cross alley. Grabbed from behind the lone attacker yanked Neal into the narrow alley and forced him against the concrete wall face first. Neal crossed his left arm against his chest with his palm against the wall to make sure that he could push away from it if he needed to. Acting submissive to the attack Neal slipped his right hand into his jacket and unsnapped the small leather strap that kept Peter's gun in the holster just in case he needed it. Neal stayed calm as the man leaned against him to hold in him still and pressed a knife point behind his ear to ensure that he had his attention.

"Good evening, Pretty Boy."

"I...I don't want any trouble," Neal stuttered "I'm just looking for my friend."

"Well you certainly haven't found that."

"I don't have any money or drugs."

"That would be a real shame, around here it's either cash, Glass, or blood donations."

"Please don't hurt me, I don't have anything of value."

"Hell, with a face like that I might be able to sell you." The man chuckled. "Let's get a better look."

Neal had not counted on the mugger grabbing a hold of the collar of his jacket and yanking it off his shoulders. With the back strap of the shoulder harness he was wearing revealed the opportunist small time criminal realized he was dealing with something more than a lost tourist. Surprised to find his prey armed he took a fatal step back.

Having brought a knife to a gun fight the attacker had two options: lash out and strike first, or just run. Neal stepped to the side in time to avoid getting a blade sunk into his kidney. Fearing that his plan had backfired Neal reached for the gun to scare off the attacker. Before he got the chance to even turn around someone grabbed his attacker and drove him head first into the side of a near by dumpster. Moaning in senseless pain the man stayed down on the filthy alley.

Acting quickly Neal pushed himself off the wall and spun around to face his rescuer. Daniel was already trying to flee. Neal lashed out with Peter's handcuffs that he'd put in his back pocket. He caught Daniel's wrist and closed the other one around his own wrist. Digging his heels into the street Neal leaned back and forced Daniel to stop and turn around.

Not understanding at first that he was cuffed to Neal Daniel fought to free his wrist. When he finally realized what Neal had done he stopped and stood peacefully trapped. Neal stared at Daniel in disbelieve, even with him standing right in front of him it still didn't feel real. Daniel forced a sad smile and reached out with his free hand to touch Neal's face. Neal jerked back as far as the cuffs around their wrists would allow.

Daniel allowed Neal to keep his distance as they both stood with their cuffed arm out stretched. A heavy silence fell over them that seemed to drown out even the city noise. Neal had rehearsed in his mind a thousand times what he'd say to Daniel if he ever got the chance, but now all words failed him. About to speak Daniel suddenly tensed and looked over his shoulder as he heard a distant cop siren quickly approaching. He turned back to Neal with a cornered animal look in his eyes.

"Neal?" Daniel asked nervously.

"I dialed 911 in my pocket right as soon as I walked away from the woman."

"Very clever." Daniel admitted sadly. "You realize they're going to arrest you too, right?"

"Anything to get you off the street."

"Neal, please, I went to Peter for help."

"Help? He's in so much pain he can't even speak."

"If you want to talk about it, fine, we'll talk." Daniel gave in as the sirens grew louder. "But not here, I can't get arrested."

"You should have thought of that before you throttled my partner!"

"Neal, don't make me do this."

"I'm not letting yo..."

Neal was cut off as Daniel suddenly jerked him closer using the handcuffs. Yanked off balance Neal fell forward. Daniel used Neal's momentum to help him deliver a powerful blow to his stomach with his knee. Knocked breathless Neal dropped to his knees and bowed his head as he tried to keep from being sick. The position gave Daniel access to the back of his head where he quickly struck him hard enough to knock him unconscious.

Daniel caught Neal before he collapsed. He slung Neal's arm over his shoulder, keeping a hold of his wrist so that the metal cuff didn't cut into it. Only knocked out for a few seconds Neal started to come to, but he was highly disoriented. Barely staying awake Neal stumbled along as Daniel guided him quickly away from the crime scene.

"Not fair..." Neal complained drunkenly.

"It's not my fault you've never learned to fight, Neal."

"Daniel...why now?" Neal panted as he fought to remain conscious. "All these years..."

"I didn't want to cause you any more pain."

"Daniel...I've had to live with believing that I'm a murderer."

"Neal..."

"Wha...what could be more painful than that?"


	19. Chapter 19

White Collar: The Eye of Sita

Chapter Nineteen

"Come on, Sleepy Head, wake up."

Neal moaned pitifully against a pounding headache as Daniel shook his shoulder. Opening his eyes he blinked against an oddly harsh red light. Finding himself on his back on a small bed he slowly sat up and looked around. The source of the red light was a neon sign that was just outside the window of a dingy hotel room. The place had the feel of one that rented rooms by the hour rather than the night.

Daniel was standing next to the bed looking down on him with a sad smile on his face. Neal's eyes flicked over to Peter's weapon that was laying on the small table in the corner of the room. Hoping to take Daniel by surprise Neal jumped to his feet and went straight for the gun. Daniel had been waiting to see if that would be Neal's first move and was already prepared for it.

Neal was easily caught around the waist by Daniel. Throwing his elbow back Neal struck Daniel hard under the jaw. Although he made a noise of surprise when hit Daniel managed to keep a hold of his captive. Neal twisted in Daniel's arms to try and free himself, however to his surprise he suddenly found him lifted completely off the floor.

With frightening strength Daniel flipped Neal over and slammed him down on his back on the bed with enough force to knock him breathless. Before he could reorient himself Daniel was on top of him. Neal lashed out and landed a hard strike against Daniel's right temple. Simply angered further Daniel grabbed Neal's wrists and pinned them above his head as he sat down on his hips to keep him down.

"Let me go!"

"Calm down, Neal." Daniel growled threateningly. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"Why should I believe you?" Neal snarled.

"Nea..."

"You said those exact words the night you tried to blind me."

"At least I didn't leave you to die!" Daniel hissed.

"Da..."

"You left me when I needed you most!"

"No, that's not what happened." Neal shook his head. "I didn't leave you die, I thought you were dead!"

"If you thought I was already dead, why bother calling 911 before leaving?" Daniel demanded. "Why risk bringing cops to the scene? Caffrey's house was so isolated, it could have taken weeks for anyone to figure out he was missing. Why didn't you give yourself the head start if you truly believed we were both dead? What sense did that make?"

"I...I didn't want my slaughtered family left on the floor to rot, you both deserved better than that."

Daniel's rage instantly turned to shock at hearing Neal's quiet confession. With his own anger heated blood beginning to cool Neal stopped fighting against Daniel and just stared up at him. Closing his eyes Daniel bowed his head and drew a shuddering breath. Releasing Neal's wrists he rested his forehead on Neal's shoulder as he broke down into quiet tears.

Battling a set of conflicting emotions Neal stayed motionless at first. Feeling the acid sting of tears himself Neal sighed heavily. He reached up and carded his hand into Daniel's blonde hair and just let him cry. The gentle touch helped Daniel calm himself.

"I lost everything that night, Neal." Daniel whispered miserably.

"So did I."

Daniel stayed resting on Neal's shoulder for a few more minutes before finally pulling away and getting off his captive. Still a little wary that Daniel might turn violent again Neal sat up slowly. Daniel could see the fear in Neal's eyes and took a step back with his hands raised in surrender.

"I'm sorry, Neal, there isn't a day that's gone by where I haven't wished that I could change the past." Daniel said with true sincerity. "I've missed you so much."

"Seems like you've been keeping fairly close tabs on me." Neal said with a slight smile.

"I have." Daniel admitted. "Not as closely now that you've got the FBI to make sure you stay out of trouble."

"If you think the FBI is so good for me then why did you attack Peter?"

"He would have come after me, I needed a head start."

"You didn't have to hurt him, Daniel." Neal said icily. "You could have just handcuffed him to the steering wheel, the was no reason to nearly kill him."

"...you're right."

"Then why did you?"

"Jealousy."

"What?"

"You used to trust me like you trust him. You can't say that about anyone else you've been with since me, not even Mozzie and I know that for a fact."

"So your solution was...violence?"

"It wasn't a solution, Neal, it was just a reaction." Daniel said defensively. "I'd never take Peter from you, I swear. I won't go near him again."

"You have serious aggression issues, Daniel, you know that, right?"

"Yeah." Daniel admitted with a sigh. "My therapist says the same thing."

An awkward silence fell between them once more. Neal studied the long marring scar along Daniel's temple. He still had a hard time believing that Daniel was able to survive even though he was standing right in front of him. With a sick feeling in his stomach Neal decided that he had to ask the question that had been haunting him for years.

"Daniel, I have to know the truth, please. Is what you told me about Robert true?"

"Yes."

"Why did you wait so long to tell me?"

"I thought you knew. I thought you were living in the same world that I was. I always just assumed that you were stronger than I was, or that I was wrong for harboring such anger against him. I tried for years to tell myself that he gave us so much that perhaps it was a small price to pay."

"It wasn't. He had no right."

"None of that matter now." Daniel insisted. "All that matters is finding my son."

"So he is real?"

"As real as you and I."

"If you really want to help your son you need to come back with me to Peter and let the FBI help."

"Neal, these people already have everything they want, if I bring in any kind of authorities into this they'll kill him. I took a huge risk going to Peter in the first place, but I'm getting desperate."

"If they already have what they want, how do you know he's still alive?"

"I...I don't know that." Daniel whispered as he began to pant in panic. "I have to just keep believing that he is, I have to do what I can before they find me."

"Find you?"

"I'm being hunted, Neal. I might not have much more time, when they find me they are going to kill me."

"Who? The kidnappers?"

"No...um..." Daniel hesitated. "It's probably best if I don't tell you who."

"I want the whole truth or I'm not doing anything for you."

"I'm on the run from the NSA."

"The National Security Agency, that's the second time they've come up. I still don't understand how they are involved with a diamond heist."

"They don't really care about the diamond, they just want to find me." Daniel explained.

"Why?"

"I work for them."

"You work for the NSA?" Neal asked doubtfully. "Don't they do background checks?"

"My background is what got me into this. And I suppose 'work' is the wrong term for our relationship. I'm kind of like you, Neal, only my handler encourages my bad behavior."

"What do you do for them?"

"They call me 'The Locksmith'."

"Why do I get the feeling that you don't pick average locks." Neal said nervously.

"There is no lock more difficult to pick than the human mind."

"You con secrets out of foreign government agents?"

"I do, or sometimes I'm just sent to physically steal them. These are dangerous times for America, 9/11 proved our soil is not as untouchable as we once thought. It is part of my role to make sure nothing like that ever happens again. I can do whatever I want, I can have whatever I desire as long as I get results and I don't get caught."

"And if you do?"

"There is no actual record that Daniel Caffrey exists. The only two people who would ever miss me would be my wife and son."

"Woah, wait...'Caffrey'?"

"I left 'White' behind when I escaped from prison."

"I always suspected that someone out there was using my name and reputation to their advantage."

"I was using it for both of our advantages." Daniel smiled. "However, now that reputation has caught up with me. I was targeted into being forced to steal the Hope Diamond and because of that the NSA thinks I'm a traitor."

"Can't you just explain to them about your son?"

"It's too late for that. I always walked a fine line with them, now that I've broken my leash and stolen a national treasure, they will never trust me again."

"Leash?"

Daniel reached up and unbuttoned his black shirt. Neal's breath hissed across his teeth as Daniel exposed a large gauze pad taped to his chest that was seeping blood. Without hesitation Daniel tore off the gauze to reveal the deep four inch long gash being held together by a few inexpertly done stitches. The injury looked infected, but still slowly healing.

"It's amazing the similarities in our lives, Neal."

"What is that?"

"You wear your GPS around your ankle, I wore mine over my heart."

"You cut it out?" Neal asked horrified.

"Michelle did it for me so that I could get the diamond to save our son." Daniel explained as he started to pace. "Now that it still hasn't work I can't risk further involving her."

"So she knows who you are?"

"She's my handler, Neal. Shortly after you were arrested I got a little drunk and I broke into somewhere I shouldn't have. I got caught, but not before getting past some very impressive security."

"Where did you break in to?"

"Uh..." Daniel smiled. "Fort Knox."

"You got into Fort Knox...drunk?"

"Yep. They found me sleeping off a hangover in a pile of gold coins. They were pissed, but I caught the attention of some very important people. People willing to work out a deal similar to the one you have, except I have no chance of parole."

Daniel stopped his pacing and sat down on the edge of the bed next to Neal. He wasn't able to remain seated long before his nervous energy got the better of him. Getting back to his feet Daniel dragged his hands through his hair compulsively. Neal could see why Peter believed that this was a man worried sick about his son.

"My life is over, Neal, and I can accept that as long as my son is safe."

"You really think they'll kill you?" Neal asked with new sympathy. "That seems a little too 'spy novel' for the NSA."

"You're lucky Neal, the FBI treats you like a valuable resource, I'm just a dog to NSA and now they think I have rabies." Daniel said seriously. "I'm no longer trustworthy. There is nothing that Michelle is going to be able to do to stop them from sending me back to Texas to carry out the rest of my sentence."

"I guess I'm not surprised that you ended up with life in prison for what happened."

"Life?" Daniel chuckled bitterly. "Neal, it's Texas."

"You mean..."

"I escaped from Death Row." 


	20. Chapter 20

Note from the Phoenix: Thank you for being patient, I know I used to update every other day when I was sick and not at work. However, I work one full time job, on part time job and I do taxidermy custom orders on the side. I've been a *very* busy woman. I will try to do better.

* * *

><p>White Collar: The Eye of Sita<p>

Chapter Twenty

Peter woke in a panic feeling like he couldn't breathe. Sitting up he took a few deep breaths as he rubbed gingerly at his sore throat. Peter glanced at his watch to see that it was just past four in the morning. He laid down and tried to go back to sleep, but something seemed out of place. Getting to his feet he went into the bathroom and closed the door before turning on the lights.

Blinking against the suddenly bright light Peter's eyes slowly adjusted. Looking in the mirror he inspected the bright crimson and purple mark that marred his neck. Elizabeth was not going to be happy. She tried to act calm whenever his job turned dangerous, but with such an obvious sign of violence she was going to be upset. After running some cold water over a wash cloth he pressed it against the bruise to try to reduce the swelling.

Leaving the bathroom with the cold cloth it took Peter's eyes a few minutes to readjust to the darkness. He sat back down on the couch, but he knew he wasn't going to be able to go back to sleep. Peter looked at the closed door that lead to Sara's bedroom. He knew it was completely inappropriate to check to see if Neal was with her, but his instincts were telling him it was worth the faux pas to make sure Neal hadn't gone after Daniel.

Peter walked over to the door and reached for the handle before he remembered that there was a much better way to find out where Neal was. Going over to his jacket on the coffee table he looked for his cell phone. Not finding his cell phone didn't worry Peter half as much as when he realized that his shoulder holster was also missing. It took him a moment to recall Daniel had dismantled the weapon and left it in the backseat of his car. He knew that Neal was perfectly capable of putting the gun back together again.

Before Peter could process the full scope of repercussions of Neal being out on the street with his weapon he heard someone swiping a key card in the front door. Neal opened the door carefully, trying not to wake anyone. When he saw that he was already caught Neal put his hands up in surrender. Peter narrowed his eyes at Neal.

"I didn't kill Daniel." Neal offered.

Peter stepped up to Neal and without a word reached into his jacket and retrieved his gun out of the holster that Neal was still wearing. He sniffed the barrel and breathed a sigh of relief, the gun had not been recently fired. Opening the cartridge Peter's blood turned to ice when he found that it was empty, he was responsible for every bullet that the FBI issued him.

"Daniel took them." Neal explained. "He promised to have them delivered to our hotel tomorrow."

Peter glared at Neal icily.

"I'm sorry." Neal said with more sincerity than usual. "I had to see him, and I wasn't sure if I would need to defend myself against him or not."

Reaching up to his own temple that mirrored where Neal had a faint bruise Peter's anger turned to concern. Peter noticed that the top button on Neal's stained shirt wasn't just unbuttoned, it was actually missing. Neal was also moving as though his neck hurt.

"It was not a 'Lifetime Channel' type reunion." Neal admitted sadly.

Peter could hear the weight on Neal's heart in his voice. He put his hand on Neal's shoulder.

"I'm fine, Peter." Neal replied unconvincingly.

Peter raised a doubtful eyebrow. Neal saw Peter's skepticism and managed a more genuine smile. Neal went over to the couch and sat down heavily. He pulled his hands through his hair and closed his eyes for a moment. Peter wasn't used to seeing Neal looking so lost. He sat down next to him and just waited.

"I'm a horrible person, Peter." Neal confessed. "Daniel thinks I'm the one who should never forgive him, but it is the other way around. I felt better when I believed Daniel was dead. Now, not only do I have worry about him attacking my friends, I also have to live with the fact that I abandoned him bleeding to death. It was easier to handle the thought that I had just killed him out right. He had to face everything on his own, meth rehab, murder trial, death row, life as an escaped felon."

Neal paused for a while, his thoughts going back to the past. Knowing that there was nothing he could say to make things better Peter just offered Neal a non judgmental silence. Neal's eyes brightened with tears, but he didn't reach the point where they actually slipped down his face.

"I should have stayed. I should have made sure. If I had taken a moment to find the courage to check for a pulse none of this would have happened...there was just so much blood, he was so still...I should have checked. Everything would be different, our whole lives would have been changed. None of this had to happen."

Peter continued to sit quietly and just let Neal talk. It was somewhat disconcerting how his usually tight lipped friend had suddenly become so talkative. Now that he had started he couldn't seem to stop. Peter had long suspected that this day would come. Although he could have never had guessed the circumstances surrounding it he was very familiar with the way secrets tended to eat away at whatever container in you heart you tried to put them in. Eventually they escaped in one form or another. Peter's friend in the violent crimes division often told stories of suspects coming forward with spontaneous confessions even when there was no evidence to link them to the crime. The human need to share secrets was a powerful one.

"I need to get my real name back." Neal suddenly announced miserabiably.

Peter gave Neal a questioning look.

"Daniel confirmed the one question that has haunted me all these years." Neal answered Peter's unspoken question. "I've tried not to think back to the all the signs that I should have noticed back when it was happening, I almost had myself convinced that Daniel had lied. It's hard to reconcile why Robert would treat the two of us so differently. But, there is no question now, there was too much pain in Daniel's voice. Look at it now I wonder how could I have been so blind. My adoptive father, mentor and namesake was a rapist."

"You know that's not your fault, right?"

"You're talking now?" Neal asked in surprise.

"Most of the pain is gone."

"Why didn't you say anything before?"

"You sounded like you needed someone to listen, not talk."

"How did you get so wise?" Neal smiled.

"Advantage of my advanced years."

"At least there is one advantage." Neal replied. "But I'm serious, Peter, I can't stay 'Neal Caffrey' anymore, not after this."

"Neal...what's in a name?"

"Are you quoting Shakespeare to make me feel better?"

"Pretty much."

"So you implying that I'm a sweet rose?"

"I guess I didn't think that quote all the way through." Peter admitted.

"No you did not."

"But you get my point, right?"

"I do." Neal nodded. "But, I'm still not sure."

"In the end the decision is yours. There are plenty of legal ways to change your name, and even more illegal ones that I'm sure you know about. However, I think the fact that you have never kept in an alias longer than a few weeks says something about how important 'Neal Caffrey' is to you."

"I've kept aliases for years."

"You've kept them, but you've never used them that long. I would have lost your trail in Europe and I would have never known you'd returned to New York if you had just dropped your Caffrey identity and settled into a new one. I never would have caught you. And I know you know that. So before you change your name just remember that at one point you were willing to risk prison to keep it."

Neal thought about what Peter said quietly. Eventually he nodded. He looked more relaxed than when he'd first come back from talking to Daniel. Peter was concerned by how weary Neal still appeared, but then he realized that it had been a long night without sleep for his stressed friend.

"Do you want to know what my birth name was?" Neal asked suddenly.

"No."

"Right, I'm getting careless, you still have your badge. You'd have to arrest me for identity fraud."

"That's not the reason, Neal. I'm not going to punish you for talking to me in confidence. If you decide to change back to your birth name, you can tell me then. But I still say it is something you should think about before acting."

"Thinking before acting...that's not really my style."

"I've noticed."

Neal chuckled with a bright smile that made him look much more like the Neal that Peter was used to dealing with. Falling silent once again Neal's brow furrowed in thought the way it always did when he was reading through a new case file. His eyes started going back and forth as he became more absorbed in whatever he was thinking about.

"Neal?"

"How are we going to find Daniel's son?" Neal asked seriously.

"I don't suppose Daniel or the mother has filed a missing person's report?"

"No, they tried to handle it themselves and now they are too afraid to bring any officials into it."

"And we're still not supposed to know about the Hope." Peter mused out loud. "If we could get on the official diamond case we would have a lot more resources to work with."

"I can get you on the case." Sara's voice suddenly joined the conversation.

"Sara..." Neal got to feet "I...uh..."

"It's okay, Neal, I don't care about your name either." Sara assured. "Although I'm far more curious to know what your name was than Peter."

"You get me in the right mood sometime and I might just tell you."

"Challenge accepted." Sara grinned.

"If you two are going to do this I'm going back to my own hotel." Peter complained.

"Sorry." Sara flushed.

"Sara, you said you can get us on the case?" Neal asked to redirect.

"I can. I'm part of the official investigation."

"I don't see how that helps."

"I'm allowed to hire my own consultants." Sara clarified.

"Can we risk becoming part of an official investigation? What if we spook the kidnapper."

"No one will think twice, Neal." Sara assured.

"How can you know that?"

"If you were looking for a consultant on an impossible to steal item...who would you go to?"

"Someone with alleged experience." Neal smiled.

"Exactly." Sara nodded. "And if I had any FBI connections and knew an Agent I could trust to keep a secret I'd probably want his help too."

"I hate to say this," Peter said "but if we are going to be officially on the Hope Diamond case I know one more person's help we need."

"No, no way." Neal said quickly. "Bad idea."

"I know you don't like him, he's certainly not my favorite person. However, he's good at his job and he knows this city better than we do. Plus he can be trusted."

"Trusted?" Neal said doubtfully.

"He plays things closer to book than I do."

"Who are we talking about?" Sara asked.

"Agent Walters."


	21. Chapter 21

NOTE: Seems like this didn't post the first time, let's give it another try!

* * *

><p>White Collar: The Eye of Sita<p>

Chapter Twenty-one

Sara woke gently with Neal's breath brushing rhythmically against the back of her neck. After the long night that had lasted until nearly dawn he had fallen asleep quickly. Sara had heard the entire conversation, but she didn't have much context to place it in. Daniel's relation to Neal was still a mystery and the mention of an abusive adoptive father was a terrifying thought. Whatever Neal and Daniel's relationship had been it clearly had ended in blood.

Illustrating the traumatic past that had been brought back to into the light Neal jerked spasmodically in his sleep. They were both lying on their sides and he had his arm around her ribs. Sara took his hand and held it against her heart. Neal nuzzled the back of her neck and fell back into a more peaceful sleep. It was getting close to nine in the morning and Sara was wide awake, but she stayed lying in bed to keep from waking Neal. He needed the sleep.

Laying awake in bed Sara had a little more time think about the idea that 'Neal Caffrey' was an alias. She had always suspected that it was, but now that she had confirmation of that fact she found she had mixed emotions about learning the truth. In the end Peter probably had the right idea of letting this one lie slid.

Neal suddenly stretched out like a cat in a sunbeam. Sara yelped in surprised as Neal used his purchase on her to take her with him when he rolled over on his back. At least partially awake Neal brought his other arm up and hugged her tightly to his chest. Sara chuckled as Neal sank his teeth playfully into her shoulder. She twisted around in his arms to face him and was instantly greeted with a warm kiss.

"You do remember that Peter is right on the other side of that door, right?" Sara reminded Neal when he ran his hand down her side.

"I was just being friendly."

"Well don't." Sara teased.

With his eyes still closed Neal smiled and looked as thought he wanted nothing more than to just fall back asleep. Making herself comfortable on his chest Sara waited for him to decide it was time to face the day. Eventually Neal groaned in defeat and opened his eyes. Sara got up out of bed and went over to the closet to find something to wear.

"What time is it?" Neal asked disoriented.

"Nearly ten."

"You should have woken me sooner." Neal said as he swung his legs out of bed.

"You wouldn't have been any good to anyone as tired as you were."

"Good point."

Sara got into one of her more professional business suits while Neal complained about having to crawl back into his ruined shirt from last night. When they stepped out into the living room Peter was on his cell phone with an odd expression on his face. Sara looked to Neal, but he just shrugged. Peter said good bye and hung up the phone.

"That was Walters." Peter announced.

"I was hoping we could talk more about that before you asked him for help." Neal said.

"I didn't call him, he called me, and he wants your help."

"Me?" Neal asked surprised.

"Trust me there was pain in his voice when he made the request."

"What does he want?" Sara asked.

"He wouldn't talk about it over the phone, which makes me think that he's come to the conclusion that he needs a diamond thief to catch one."

"I have never been convicted of diamond smuggling."

"Who said anything about smuggling?" Peter asked.

"No one." Neal said quickly with a bright smile. "Can we go back to our hotel and change before meeting with Walters?"

"I could use a shower myself." Peter admitted.

"Yes you could." Neal teased.

"Nice to see your feeling more like yourself." Peter huffed.

"We should get going." Sara pointed out.

"We?" Peter repeated. "Walters is brin..."

"Don't think for one second Peter that you're cutting me out of this search just because Walters came to you before you could go to him. It is just as much my job to find the Hope as it is yours."

"Peter, just give in now." Neal suggested. "You're not going to win against her."

"Sara, I know the bounty on this rock must be extraordinary, but I can't have you risking this investigation with personal gain on your min..."

"I'm looking for the Hope as a personal favor for my boss, since the theft hasn't been publicized there is no reward for getting it back. Other than the lavish thanks of my boss. I don't care if I get a hold of the stone or if the FBI does, it doesn't make a difference."

Peter gave Sara a look as though he didn't believe her. Sara just smiled and gathered her purse up to leave. She noticed the 'she's your responsibility' look that Peter gave Neal. She was impressed how easily the pair communicated without words. Neal in return just shrugged in a 'I have no control over her' manner.

The trio stopped by the other hotel long enough for the boys to get showers and change into fresh clothes. Sara waited out on the patio with some coffee watching the tourists on the grassy Mall. The Smithsonian was visible from the patio and from here it looked like business as usual. Sara briefly wondered how often secrets went covered up in this city. She was shaken out of her thoughts as Neal came up from behind and leaned in to kiss her cheek.

"Don't worry," Neal said softly "we'll find the stone, and Daniel's son."

"So you believe this psychotic strangler has a son?"

"I've decided that there is far more risk in not believing him. I don't see any reason for him to lie to me at this point."

"I don't see any reason for the kidnappers to hold his kid now that they have what they want."

"To keep him from coming after them." Neal explained simply. "Daniel is not an enemy you want to have. He's dangerous even as a friend."

"Clearly. How's the back of your head?"

"Painful," Neal admitted "but I've certainly had worse."

"Neal...is Daniel your brother?" Sara ask hesitantly.

"In every respect except blood."

"And you trust him?"

"At this point I trust Daniel the same way I trust swimming with a shark."

"What?"

"The odds of one turning on you are extremely low, but certainly not zero."

"Neal, no one in there sane mind swims with sharks." Sara pointed out.

"Sure they do, people pay good money to go swimming with them. Beautiful creatures, it's a real experience to see one in the wild."

"They're man eaters."

"That reputation is mostly undeserved." Neal replied. "More people are killed annually by falling coconuts than sharks."

"Yeah, but no one has nightmares about coconuts."

"I'll have to take you down to the Caribbean sometime, it's a beautiful place with plenty of sharks to swim with."

"That's a bit out of your two mile radius." Sara teased.

"I won't be chained to New York forever."

Neal's tone didn't suggest that he was counting the days or anything, but that he was still looking forward to the day that he could go anywhere he wanted, and do pretty much the same. Sara had the feeling that their own relationship would have about the same lifespan as his sentence. He may be eager to leave New York, but Sara had no intention of ever moving away. New York was home.

"You Kids ready to go?" Peter called out to the patio.

"We're waiting on you." Neal called back.

It was a quick ride to Federal Building and to Walters office. Walters looked Sara over for a second, but he made no protests to her being there. He even had one of the interns fetch a chair for her. Walters shuffled through some papers, it seemed in his nature to force people to wait for him.

"We don't have all day, Walters." Peter said with a touch of hoarseness.

"Burke?" Walters seemed to notice the bruising that was peeking out of Peter's collar for the first time. "What happened to your throat?"

"Autoerotic asphyxiation." Neal answered for Peter.

"What?" Peter and Walters asked together.

"Never mind." Neal shrugged. "What do you want Walters?"

"You will address me as 'Agent Walters', Mr. Caffrey." Walters growled.

"Fine, what do you want, Agent Walters?" Neal corrected. "Or did you just want to drag us down here to play scare tactics again?"

"Watch your tone, Caffrey. I always knew you had friends in low places, I just didn't realize you had them in high ones as well."

"What?"

"You know damn well what I'm talking about." Walters snapped.

"I have no ide..."

"Boys," Sara interrupted "can we not turn this into a pissing match?"

Peter just closed his eyes and sighed with a sad shake of his head. Walters glared spitefully at Neal for another minute before composing himself. Neal had remained outwardly calm through the small spat, but Sara knew he was more tense than he was showing.

"Since Sterling-Bosh has insisted on joining you two here I can only assume that she has told you about the Hope Diamond." Walter said bluntly. "We have a lead on the thief."

"You do?" Neal asked in surprise.

"And, no, Mr. Caffrey, we do not think it is you." Walters said icily. "That's giving even you too much credit."

"Who is it?"

"Harold Glass."

"Glass? As in 'Glass Diamonds'?" Neal asked in surprise.

"Glass Diamonds?" Sara repeated. "That is the worst name for a diamond company ever."

"I've never even heard of them." Peter added.

"Glass Diamonds is not a jewelry company like DeBeers, or Cartier, they are purely a rough diamond mover. They buy whole mines worth of stones and resell them uncut to more well known names." Neal explained.

"Why am I not surprised that you know so much about them?" Walters asked rhetorically. "Do you also know that Glass Diamonds recently lost its largest supplier of diamonds."

"That's because they were Blood Diamonds, mined and sold for the sole purpose of raising money to support war lords in Africa. Glass should have spent time in a Federal Prison for his trade."

"For once you and I agree on something." Walters nodded. "However, he was good at washing his diamonds and we had nothing on him. Luckily the Ivory Coast was finally able to clamp down on Glass's supply line from their end."

"I don't understand what makes you think Glass stole the Hope." Peter said.

"Glass is looking for a new partner, in India."

"Of course," Neal smiled "he's trying to get in with the mines of Golconda. He wants to give them the Hope Diamond as a gift."

"That's quite the gift."

"The Hope Diamond came from the Kollur mine in Golconda, and there are those who believe that it was actually stolen from India by Jean Baptiste Tavernier."

"Stolen? I thought he bought it." Peter said.

"That's one story. However, Tavernier was the Indiana Jones of his time, although he was more of an anthropologist than an archeology. He was adventure seeking, loved to observe cultures across the world. He was also known to keep detailed note books. When he arrived back in Paris with the then 112.23 carat diamond his notebooks had sketches of the diamond but no information on where it came from or how he got it which is odd considering how into details he was."

"So there must be some out there that believe that the Hope Diamond still belongs to India."

"It is a known fact that Hindu gods and goddess sculptures were often sculpted with diamond eyes. The Tavernier Blue, later cut to be the Hope, was supposably part of a magnificent statue of Sita."

"The Eye of Sita." Sara recalled.

"Exactly."

"But it doesn't make much sense for Glass to be that desperate to get in bed with Golconda," Neal mused "although a few spectacular diamonds have been found in Golconda the mine is not very fruitful."

"We believe he is setting himself up to 'wash' his African diamonds through India." Walters clarified.

"Do you have any evidence that doesn't include 'we believe'?" Peter asked.

"As a matter of fact we do, and that is where I need Caffrey."

"I've never met Glass." Neal said quickly.

"No, but he's looking for you, or at least someone like you."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Glass is looking for someone to forge the sculpture of Sita."

"It doesn't need to be forged, no one knows what it looked like." Neal pointed out. "Any sculptor could create him a Sita."

"But not ever sculptor could be paid to keep their mouth shut about installing the Hope Diamond into their work."

Walters brought out a file and showed it to his guests. He had more information on Glass than they had time to read. Walters had most of the work done already, he was one step away from arranging a meet between Glass and a potential hire for the Sita job. All Walters needed was an artist.

"I don't think I can do it." Neal said sadly.

"Caffrey, this isn't a trick. I'm not trying to trap you into displaying your talents. All history between us aside, if Glass has the Hope this our best chance to find the it and return a National Treasure."

"I'm too well known. Glass is a careful man, he will do his research on any forger that steps forward to take the job. He'll know me, and he'll know who I work for."

"Neal's right." Peter nodded.

"So what do you suggest?"

"Sara?" Neal asked sweetly.

"Yes?"

"How do you feel about posing as an artist?"


	22. Chapter 22

White Collar: The Eye of Sita

Chapter Twenty-two

"You remember everything I told you?"

"I've got it, Neal." Sara smiled. "This isn't my first rodeo."

"Sometimes I forget that you steal things legally for a living."

"I repossess them, not steal."

"Semantics."

"This is a bad idea." Walters growled. "We shouldn't send a civilian into Glass's house...particularly dressed like that."

Inside the large surveillance van Sara looked down at her tight white blouse that had the top three buttons undone. Her lace black bra showed through the fabric slightly. A light weight gold jacket and a skin tight black skirt that barely made it to her knees completed the outfit. Sara wore the revealing outfit with confidence and graceful ease.

"First rule of the con, Agent Walters," Neal smiled mischievously "use all available assets and advantages."

"This is too dangerous." Walters insisted.

"I can take care of myself." Sara said firmly.

"It's true," Peter agreed "Sara isn't your average 'civilian'. Plus we will be here for back up."

"How are you going to listen in?" Sara asked. "I know Neal usually wears that heavy men's watch with a transmitter, but I think that will look out of place on me."

"Which is why we have this." Peter smiled and held up a intricate gold bib necklace.

"That's stunning." Sara approved. "I'd wear that out to dinner even if I wasn't going undercover for the FBI."

"That's the point." Neal said as he took the necklace from Peter and secured it around Sara's neck, taking the opportunity to give her cheek a quick kiss. "You're going to do great. We'll be listening, but for right now just get a description of what Glass wants, I'll sculpt it tonight and then we can deliver it to Glass with the audio/visual equipment inside it. He won't reveal he has the Hope on this first meeting so you'll be safe."

"Sounds like a simple enough plan." Sara nodded.

"Glass has no history of direct violence," Walters added "he is very cautious and like Caffrey said he will not tip his hand during this first meeting so everything should go smoothly, but we can break down his door in five minutes if we have to."

"Your concern is adorable, Agent Walters." Sara reached out and brushed Walters's cheek.

Walters pulled away from her touch with a sour expression. He was far more concerned with the shitstorm of paperwork that would be involved if he got a non Agent in trouble on an undercover mission. Neal gave Sara one last word of advice.

"If Glass gives you a low price demand higher, if he gives you an absurdly high price ask him why it is worth so much to him and if he doesn't answer just walk away."

"Is that what you would do?"

"If I was smart I would."

"So...that's a 'no' then?" Sara teased.

"Pretty much."

Sara chuckled and gave Neal a quick kiss.

"Are they always this 'touchy'?" Walters complained to Peter.

"Just be grateful they've managed to keep their clothes on." Peter replied.

"You are just as affectionate with Elizabeth." Neal pointed out.

"Not when I'm at work." Peter shot back. "Sara are you ready?"

"No sweat, let's do this."

Sara grabbed the purse that Walters had provided her with all the proper identity. She took a set of BMW keys from Walters and stepped out of the van. They were currently parked about a mile from Glass's mansion. She would drive the rest of the way in a swank BMW convertible. The rest of team would be waiting in the converted utility van a block from the main gates.

Glass lives on the outer limits of DC where the city gave way to huge mansions on large wooded lots. She came to the gate that was attended by a guard. She flashed him a smile and he pressed the code that opened the automatic gate. They hadn't known if Glass had accepted the meeting until this point. The fact that she was let in without question was a good sign.

Driving up to the sprawling house Sara stepped out of the car and casually tossed the keys to the waiting valet. Another employee was waiting at the front door and brought her inside. Sara looked around at the wealth of African art and sculpture that lined the long high ceiling hallway.

Sara was brought to a sitting room with a view of the woods behind the house through a large bay window. The man who had lead her here left without a word. Sara looked around the room and was drawn to a large glass cabinet against the side wall. Inside was a large rough chunk of stone about the size of a softball. The rock didn't look like anything special, it was grayish in hue with flecks of black in it.

"Hello, Miss Taylor." A smooth voice broke the silence.

Sara turned around and leaned most of her weight onto one foot to highlight the curve of her hips. She smiled at Glass and looked him over. He was well dressed in a hand taylored suit. He was older than she had thought, he had silver hair, but still had the handsome features of his youth. Sara briefly thought about how unfair it was that some men just became better looking with age. Glass walked up to her and held his hand out. Sara placed her hand in his and he brought it up for a gentlemanly kiss. He made no secret of admiring her figure. He had an arrogance about him that suggested that he was used to having sex with any woman he set his sights on.

"I must admit that you are not what I was expecting when I started looking for an artist." Glass said.

"I hope you're not disappointed."

"Far from it." Glass smiled in much the same way that Neal did when he wanted something.

"What is this piece on display here?" Sara asked in a conversational tone.

"Do you like it? It is the world's largest diamond."

"A diamond?"

"A rough one, sadly it has too many inclusions to be cut and polished." Glass replied. "Still there is something about owning the world's largest diamond, even if it looks like an ordinary rock."

"I have to admit that I like the smaller ones that sparkle a bit more."

"I guess that just proves that size isn't everything." Glass purred.

"Quality certainly counts for something."

Glass took a step back and ran his eyes over Sara once more. Not one to be shy Sara put her hands on her hips and posed for him. Glass nodded in approval.

"I like you already. You have the confidence that only a truly beautiful woman can posses. I assume your art work is just as stunning as you are?"

"Are you familiar with the statue of Diadoumenos by Polykleitos at the Met?"

"I am, a fabulous piece."

"I was the restoration artist, only the head and legs below the knee are original, the rest is mine."

"So you are classically trained?"

"I am."

"Where did you go to school?"

"I was privately mentored."

"Anyone I would have heard of?"

"No." Sara shook her head. "But I'm sure you've seen his work without even knowing it."

Glass thought about this for a moment before nodding. Both of them were being careful not to openly discuss any illegal activity. They had been able to plant her alias in the Met's database so that if Glass had looked her up he would have been able to view some of her 'legitimate' jobs. Since there were literally thousands of status in the Met's collection he must have looked her up in order to be able to recall this one piece.

"I don't have any details about the job you're offering other than you need a clay sculptor who specializes in discretion."

"I require a life sized statue of the Goddess Sita. I have some concept drawings to assist with the look."

"Concept drawings?" Sara repeated pretending to be surprised. "So you are not looking for a forgery?"

"Not exactly."

"Then if you don't mind me asking why do you need my particular services?"

"Mostly for your discretion."

"Okay, well if the price is right what you do with the statue is your business."

"How does four hundred thousand sound?"

Sara paused. She recalled Neal's advice on negotiating price, but it wasn't until this moment that she realized that she didn't know what was high and what was low. Glass waited expectantly. Sara decided to try and draw him out.

"You're kidding right?" Sara asked sounding skeptical.

"Not enough?" Glass asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I didn't come all the way to DC for pocket change."

"Fair enough." Glass nodded. "If you are as good as you say I will happily pay seven."

"Deal."

Sara wasn't ready to relax just yet. Glass didn't seem threatening, but he did have certain power in his personality that suggested it wasn't wise to cross him. Sara was hoping to just get the concept drawings and get back to the FBI as quickly as possible.

"If you give me the drawings I will go back to my studio and get started."

"No I need you to do the sculpture here."

"What?"

"I have a all the materials you need."

"My studio has all of my tools." Sara pointed out.

"I have everything you need and I can get anything you request."

"I'd feel more comfortable in my own space."

"This is not negotiable." Glass said sternly. "I have special clay from the River of Life in India that must be used. Come, I'll take you to the studio. You'll stay here until the job is finished."

Sara took a breath to protest when the door to the study opened and three armed guards stepped inside. Glass offered Sara his arm for her to take. Forcing a polite smile Sara realized that now was not the time to hesitate. She took his arm and he lead her to the third floor where he had a large open room with high ceilings set up as an art studio. There was a set of glass doors that lead to a small patio on the far wall, but being three stories up it didn't make a good escape route.

"Does everything seem in order?" Glass asked.

"It looks good at first glance."

"Excellent. If you need anything just knock on the door. I'll give you some privacy I know how artist hate to be watched when they work. Dinner is at six. I would be honored if you'd join me."

"Of course."

"Wonderful."

Glass left, but made a point to make sure she heard him tell one of the guards to stay outside the door. Glass closed the large double doors and locked them with a heavy click. Feeling a touch of panic Sara looked around the well stocked art studio. She didn't have any idea what half of the equipment was even for. She tapped on her transmitter necklace, hoping that it was sending a signal.

"Uh...Guys, I think I'm in a bit of trouble here."


	23. Chapter 23

White Collar: The Eye of Sita

Chapter Twenty-three

"Too low, too low, too low..."

"Neal, what are you muttering about?" Peter asked.

"Sara's hesitating to answer Glass about the fee. I told her what to do if the price was too high or low...but I forgot to tell her what a good price should be."

"Damn it." Peter growled.

"I told you this was a bad idea." Walters added. "We should just move to extract her now."

"Give her a chance." Neal insisted.

"You're kidding right?" Sara voice came over the radio.

"Not enough?" Glass asked.

"Good girl." Neal smiled. "I told you she could do this."

"She's not out of there yet." Walters pointed out.

Walters' point was driven home as Glass informed Sara that he expected the work to be done in his own studio. Everyone in the van held their breath in hopes that Sara would be able to talk her way out of Glass's home. Neal's heart sank when he heard the distinctive click of a heavy lock.

"Uh...Guys," Sara's voice held an edge of anxiety "I think I'm in a bit of trouble here."

"Damn it, Burke." Walters snarled. "I told you this would happen. Glass is going to find a way to sue us over this one and the Hope Diamond is as good as gone. Looks like neither one of us are going to have your job."

"I can fix this." Neal said confidently. "I'll just slip in, do the sculpture, and slip out. I'll be done by morning if I work all night."

"No way." Walters replied.

"Glass will never know I was there." Neal assured. "Like you said if we tip our hand now the Hope Diamond is going to be lost forever. He'll chop it up and sell the smaller stones. Peter, back me up, you know I can do this."

"Neal, if you get caught..." Peter started.

"If I get caught Glass will call the cops on me, he won't kill me. Walters?"

"Caffrey's right," Walters said with some pain in his voice "Glass isn't a thug, he wouldn't risk having someone murdered in his house."

"So can I go?"

"Neal?" Sara's voice echoed in the van. "Are you going to break in here and sculpt this for me or not? I'm on the third floor, facing North, the patio door is locked but there is some red paint in here. I'm going to streak the glass with it so you can see which room I'm in."

"This is our one chance." Neal pressed as he got to his feet.

"He's your responsibility, Burke." Walters said with a heavy sigh of defeat. "It's up to you if you want to let him do this."

"Peter?"

"Go."

"Thank you." Neal replied as he moved towards the van door.

"Neal, wait."

"Peter, we don't have time to talk about this further."

"I want to take your anklet off, just in case you do get caught."

"What would it matter?" Walters asked. "He's better off wearing it so he can't bolt with the Hope."

"I'm not going to run with an unfenceable rock." Neal said defensively as he put his foot up on the chair next to where Peter was sitting.

"Glass will never believe he's just a common home invader with a tracking anklet." Peter explained as he unlocked the black tracking device. "Don't worry Walters, Neal isn't going to leave Sara behind."

Neal suddenly understood why Peter had always tended towards encouraging his relationship with Sara. He had been worried at first that Peter would be against it and had been a little surprised to find him supportive. It made perfect sense now, a serious relationship would help him put down roots in New York and she wasn't one to tolerate criminal activity.

"Here, take an ear piece." Peter offered Neal the small device.

"You damn well better swallow that thing if you get caught." Walters pointed out. "If you want to keep your 'common criminal' cover that is."

"I will keep that in mind."

"Hey," Sara's voice joined them again "I'm going to start getting nervous if you guys don't make a move soon. The paint is on the window."

"Go, Neal." Peter ordered.

Free from the tracker Neal left the van. He looked around the empty rich suburban street and headed towards the wooded area that lay North of Glass's house. There was no wall or fence on this side of the mansion, but there was about an acre of open well groomed grass to be crossed between the tree line and the shrubs that decorated the lawn near the house. Still in the cover of the trees Neal searched for the red paint.

"Neal?" Peter's voice buzzed in Neal's ear. "Can you hear me?"

"I hear you."

"How's it look?"

"If I can get across the lawn without being seen the hard part will be over."

"Do you see where Sara is?"

"I do. I'm going to have to break into the ground floor though. There is no safe way to climb up."

"Be careful."

"Always." Neal said seriously. "There is nothing for it, I'm just going to walk up to the house."

"Walk?"

"The human eye is set up to notice motion, a slower moving object draws less attention than a fast one."

"Good luck."

"Be prepared to post bail for me if this doesn't work."

"I'll consider it."

Neal took a one last look around before stepping out of the trees. He forced himself to walk at a calm normal pace towards the house. If someone was looking out the window they would see him instantly, but if they were doing anything else there was a good chance that the casual motion wouldn't catch their eye.

"Sara sees you," Peter informed Neal "she says you're crazy."

"She might just be right."

Neal made it to the side of the house and pressed his back against the red brick between two of the large floor level windows. He waited a minute to see if anyone was coming out to see what he was doing. It would be easier to avoid arrest if he wasn't caught actively breaking in. After a few minutes Neal decided it was safe.

"I made it." Neal announced. "Stay quiet unless you have to tell me something, I'll need all my concentration once inside."

"Understood."

Taking a deep breath to put himself in the proper mind set Neal peeked in the nearest window. He knew he couldn't open the window, but he was able to see that no one was in the room. Moving past the window he repeated the process until he was at the back door. Acting as a service entrance the door had a heavy duty lock. Taking his lock pick set out Neal spent a few minutes coaxing the lock open. The lock was complicated, but no match for Neal's skill.

"I'm in." Neal whispered.

Neal entered the house and into the back of an industrial looking kitchen. Glass probably held a lot of large parties and it made more sense to have his own restaurant grade kitchen than have everything catered. It was early afternoon and the kitchen was empty. There were several doors, but one of them had wood finish signifying that it would lead into the main house.

The house was like a maze of hallways and open living spaces. Neal took a moment to orient himself. He wasn't looking to go directly to Sara's room, knowing that there would be a guard outside. He needed to get to her room without being in the same hall as the guard.

Walking down one of the decorated hallways Neal heard voices approaching. Looking for a place to hide Neal was forced to slip into the nearest room. Quickly checking to see if anyone was inside he found it empty. It was a large study with floor to ceiling book shelves and a couch that face away from the door and towards a large bay window. Neal silently closed the door and kept his hand on the handle to make the door appear locked. Holding his breath he waited while the men in the hall walked past.

"Hello. Who are you?"

Neal jolted in surprise at the unexpected voice. He turned around and didn't see anyone. It took him a second to look down. There was a young girl, six or seven years old, looking up at him. She had thick golden hair that fell in large locks past her shoulders. She was dressed as though she had just come home from private school. Neal glanced at the bay window and noticed that the small statues he thought he'd seen were actually highly realistic toy horses. Completely unafraid the little girl waited for an answer.

"My name is Nick." Neal smiled warmly. "What's your name, Sweetheart?"

"I'm Alice."

"It's nice to meet you Alice."

"Are you one of Granddad's friends?" Alice asked with a hint of suspicion in her voice.

"That's right."

"I don't think I believe you." Alice narrowed her eyes.

Neal was impressed by how mature Alice was. She had probably been in the highest priced schools and day cares since birth. Hoping to make friends Neal reached into his pocket and pulled out a five dollar bill. Alice looked at him unimpressed.

"Hang on, don't look at me like that just yet." Neal said as he sat down on the floor. "Here, let me show you something."

Taking the bill Neal used the floor to help him fold it into an intricate design. Alice sat down as well and watched with fascination. When he was done Neal had a small origami frog with the five from the bill centered on his back.

"Cute!" Alice smiled.

"There's more." Neal pressed down on the back of the paper frog. "Hold out your hands."

Alice's face lit up and she cupped her hands. Neal let go of the frog and it jumped into the air a few inches and landed in Alice's hands. She squealing in delight before placing the frog on the floor and trying it herself. The way the paper was folded helped it act like a spring.

"Can I keep this?" Alice asked shyly.

"Of course." Neal nodded. "Alice, are there any other children here with your Granddad?"

"My brother is here, I think he's upstairs playing video games."

"Anyone else?"

"No. My cousins are still at school, and my friend Jenna is at horseback riding lessons. I go tomorrow. My horse is named Gold Dust, he's a palomino."

Once again Neal was impressed by how well spoken the young girl was. It had been a long shot that Alice would know anything about Daniel's son, but it was worth asking. Alice made the frog jump a few more times before she placed it carefully in her pocket and turned her attention back to Neal.

"Would you like to play 'hide and seek'?" Alice asked hopefully.

"I love 'hide and seek', although I'm much better at hiding than seeking."

"Okay, you can hide." Alice agreed and put her hands over her eyes. "I'll count to one hundred."

"No peeking." Neal warned in a gentle tone.

"No peeking." Alice repeated.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Okay. Start counting."

"One...two...three...four...five..."

Getting to his feet Neal felt a little guilty about stepping out into the hallway and leaving the game. He hoped that she didn't search for him for too long. Focusing once again on getting to Sara he found the stairs and made his way past the third floor and up to the fourth, which was the top level. The expansive mansion was mostly empty and he easily got to a bedroom that was directly above where Sara was.

Neal opened the window and looked down to the patio below. It was too far to just jump. Looking over at the bed Neal pulled off the white silk sheets. He twisted the sheets before he tied the fitted sheet to the top sheet. Rather than tying the sheet to the heavy carved wood bed frame he simply looped one end around the thick post. By holding both ends in his hand he would be able to use the sheet to get down and then he could pull it down afterwards so no one would notice the sheet hanging out the window.

Sara was waiting for Neal on the far side of the lock patio door. He pulled the sheet down and stuffed it in the corner of the patio to hide it. Neal looked through the glass and waved at Sara, she smiled and waved back. Using his lock pick again Neal quickly gained entrance to the art studio. Sara threw her arms around his neck and hugged him gratefully.

"Neal!"

"Miss me?" Neal chuckled.

"I was starting to think you got caught, what took you so long?"

"I did get caught."

"What? How did you get away?"

"Technically I didn't, I'm officially in the middle of a very intense game of 'hide and seek'."

"They are going to come right here."

"I don't think so. My pursuer is only six."

Sara gave Neal a doubtful look. Neal smiled and gave her a quick kiss before looking around the well supplied art studio. The drawings of the statue were pinned to an easel set up next to a staging platform. The metal frame work had already been completed and had bits of clay still stuck to it.

"Glass must be a perfectionist." Neal said. "Some other artist tried this already and its been torn down."

"I'm sure you can do better."

"Thank you for the vote of confidence. You can help me."

"I don't know anything about art."

"I'll teach you."

"Let's get started, I want to get out of here."

Neal went over to the red velvet couch that was set up near the patio door. Taking off his jacket he placed it carefully on the back of the couch. He loosened his tie and pulled it off, putting it with the jacket. Neal slipped out of his shoes as he unbuttoned his shirt and took it off as well. Sara came over with a puzzled look as Neal stripped.

"Neal...um...why are you taking your clothes off?" Sara asked.

"Clay work is very messy and my wardrobe boarders on irreplaceable." Neal explained as he undid his pants. "I've already ruined one outfit on this case fighting with Daniel in an alley, I'd rather not lose another one."

"You're going to keep the boxers on, right?"

"If you insist." Neal shrugged.

"In this particular case I think that I do." Sara replied.

"That makes two of us, Neal." Peter growled in the ear piece.

"Peter, I'd forgotten you were there."

"Clearly...keep the boxers on."

"You're not even here to see anything." Neal pointed out.

"Just knowing is bad enough."

"How did I end up partnered with such a prude?"

"A lifetime of bad decision making on your part...and one major slip in judgment on mine." 


	24. Chapter 24

White Collar: The Eye of Sita

Chapter Twenty-Four

"I don't have to take my clothes off too, do I?"

"That depends." Neal smiled.

"On what?"

"On how much you like that outfit."

Neal chuckled as Sara looked down at her clothing fondly. She brought her eyes up and glared at him murderously. Neal put his hands up in a sign of peaceful surrender.

"If you want Glass to think you've been working on a sculpture you can't expect to stay clean." Neal explained.

"I hate you." Sara muttered as she took off her gold jacket.

"You're the one who agreed to go undercover, sometime that means getting down and dirty."

"Yeah but no one mentioned anything about getting naked."

"You've never been this modest around me before." Neal said.

"Peter's never been listening in before."

Neal looked over at his jacket where he had put the ear piece down. Sara's necklace was still transmitting their conversation, but Neal didn't want to wear the ear piece all night while working on the statue. Sara sighed in surrender and added her jacket and blouse to the pile of Neal's clothes. Neal raised an eye brow in surprise and a lupine grin spread across his face when Sara wiggled out of her skirt.

"Garters?" Neal asked. "To an undercover assignment?"

"Shut up."

"Hey I like it."

"Just keep your mind on your work." Sara said firmly.

"I'll be a perfect gentleman, I swear."

Sara made a noise of frustrated disbelief as she leaned down to undo the strap on her high heels. Neal couldn't help but take one last look at the black thigh high nylons being held up by the silk garter strap along with the matching bra and panty set. Sara caught him admiring the view and chucked one of her shoes at him. Neal turned to the side and the shoe bounced harmlessly off his shoulder.

"Get to work." Sara ordered.

"Yes, Ma'am."

Still wearing his bright grin Neal wandered over to the large supply of natural clay and pulled off the plastic that was protecting it from drying. He'd never worked with clay from India before, but just one touch of the rich gray smooth clay told him that it was going to be a joy to work with. Neal dug his fingers deep into the block of clay and tore a piece off. Playing with the small clump he rolled it into a ball before pressing it flat and then folding it over itself.

"What are you doing?" Sara asked as she came over.

"Learning the qualities of this particular clay. It's important to know how it react to being handled before you start. This stuff is as smooth a butter and doesn't crack, flake, crumble or slip."

"And that's...good?"

"Excellent." Neal nodded and put the clay in Sara's hand. "Here, test it."

"Feels like mud."

"Clay is like wine, each batch has it's own unique flavor."

"I'm not tasting this." Sara said firmly.

"I didn't mean flavor like that." Neal smiled. "Even the best artist can only do so much with poor quality materials. I'll start moving this over to the metal frame, if you could get us some bowls of water we can get started."

While Sara hunted down some bowls and filled them in the large utility sink Neal started to get to work on transporting the fine Indian clay over to the staging area. He started with a very rough base, just placing a thick layer of clay over the metal bones with approximations of the major muscle groups. Sara came over and placed two bowls of water on the small wooden dais that the slowly evolving sculpture sat on. Sara looked at the vaguely human clump of clay with a doubtful expression.

"It doesn't look anything like the drawing." Sara teased.

"Ha Ha." Neal replied.

"So what's next?"

"I'll show you. Get your hands wet."

Sara hesitated for a moment but eventually she dipped her hands into one of the bowls of water. Neal did the same and then stepped behind Sara and put his arms around her and put his hands over hers. Neal guided Sara to reach out and touch the cold clay. Together they began to smooth out the rough clay. It was long before they both had clay marring their skin from their fingertips to behind their ears.

"Eventually one of us is going to have to make a 'Ghost' reference." Sara broke the silence.

"Yeah, I can practically hear the 'Unchained Melodies' in the background." Neal agreed. "It is a lot of fun though, isn't it?"

"Maybe if I wasn't half naked in a kidnapper's house. I'm feeling a little vulnerable at the moment."

"Don't worry, Peter won't let anything happen to us." Neal said confidently. "Besides, I'm starting to doubt that Glass is a kidnapper."

"You think Daniel was lying?"

"No. I just don't think Glass is our guy."

"What makes you think that?"

"Instinct." Neal shrugged as he continued to work the clay with Sara. "I met Glass's granddaughter, it's obvious that her brother and cousin's all spend a lot of time here."

"So?"

"He's very involved in his kid's and grandkid's lives. That isn't the profile of a kidnapper, particularly one who doesn't return the child once they have what they want."

"Glass is still a criminal."

"So am I, doesn't mean either one of us are willing to stoop to kidnapping to get what we want."

"Glass did have a certain charm that reminded me a lot of you." Sara teased. "So what do we do if Glass doesn't have the Hope?"

"We'll have to cross that bridge when we come to it. For right now I think it would be best to get the statue done."

"I think I have enough mud on me to convince Glass I've been hard at work. I'll let you concentrate on getting this done."

Neal nodded and freed Sara from his arms. Sara sat down on the floor and watched as Neal began to work some detail into the sculpture. Pausing every so often to stand back and look at how his work was progressing Neal made sure that the sculpture matched the concept drawings. Hours past and the sun began to set as Neal continued to bring life to the once shapeless clay.

Sita was in a traditional dancing pose with one leg held up, bent at the knee. He hips and shoulders were tilted in opposite extreme angles to give her a sense of motion and grace. She was looking demurely over her lowered shoulder. The fancy headdress that she wore along with the intricate two part dress were going to require a lot of detail work. Neal was working on the bust line when there was a knock at the door. Sara jumped to her feet in alarm.

"I forgot, I'm supposed to have dinner with Glass!"

"It's okay, I'll hide, you go answer the door."

"Undressed like this?" Sara demanded.

Neal went over to where there were some drop clothes folded up. He tossed one to Sara so that she could wrap it around herself.

"Bringing me something back, I'm starving." Neal said.

Sara rolled her eyes and went to the door as Glass knocked again. Neal hurried over to the large velvet couch and hid behind it. Sitting down on the floor Neal pressed his back against couch and listened to Sara answering the door.

"Good eve..." Glass stopped suddenly. "I'm sorry, I did not realize you were undressed..."

"I didn't wear my 'work clothes' to this meeting." Sara replied as she held the drop cloth closer to her chest.

"Of course, my apologies. May I come in and see the progress?"

Glass had phrased his last words as a question, but he stepped inside before allowing her to answer. Keeping out of sight Neal got to his feet in case he needed to intervene. He heard Glass step inside and walk over to the statue and circle it.

"Breath taking." Glass said with genuine approval.

"Thank you." Sara replied modestly.

Neal kept in hiding while Glass continued to study the statue. A heavy silence fell over the room as he contemplated the work. Still crouched down Neal risked glancing around the side the couch. Glass had his back to Neal with his hands held behind his back. Sara was standing to the side holding the drop cloth close to her chest. Neal tensed when Glass took his attention away from the statue and stepped up to Sara.

"I would very much like to meet the artist." Glass said calmly.

"Wha...what?"

"Perhaps he would like to join us for dinner?"

Neal swore under his breath.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Sara lied unconvincingly as she took a step back.

"Don't insult my intelligence. Not only did my granddaughter just spend two hours looking for him, but I can see his clothing on the couch." Glass pointed out before turning towards the couch. "I just want to talk, I can give you a minute to get dressed if you need it. If you insist on remaining hidden I suppose I could discuss matters with your female partner here."

"Stay away from her, Glass." Neal ordered as he stood up. "Back away."

"I'm not a threat." Glass said as he held his hands up. "I'm not angry. I understand the value of having a beautiful woman as the 'face' of your business. I just want to talk."

"So talk."

"I don't tend to discuss business with naked men. I will give you two a moment to take a shower and get dressed, then we can talk over dinner."

"What do we have to talk about? You want a statue and I'm making one for you."

"We can talk more over dinner, Mr..." Glass trailed off so that Neal would fill in his name.

"You don't recognize me?" Neal asked.

"Should I?"

"My name's Daniel Caffrey."

"Ah, 'Caffrey', yes, now that you mentioned it I do believe I've heard of you before. Didn't you steal the Star of the East diamond from Harry back in 2001?"

"Allegedly."

"It's nice to know I've hired a true professional. Dinner is in twenty minutes. You are both invited."

Neal held his breath as Glass left. Sara hurried over to Neal. He reached out and pulled her into a comforting embrace. It had been a close call, but at no point did Glass really seem to present himself as threatening. Worried about how Peter was reacting Neal picked up the ear piece and put it back on.

"You heard all of that right, Peter?"

"I did. Big risk introducing yourself as Daniel." Peter replied. "Do you think your cover is blown?"

"I don't. I watched Glass carefully when I used Daniel's name and he didn't even blink."

"You'd think that if he'd kidnapped Daniel's son he'd have at least some reaction to hearing the name."

"My thoughts exactly. I'm going to go to dinner and see what he wants, he may still have the Hope."

"Just be careful."

"I will."

"Neal?"

"Yes?"

"Did you steal the Star of the East?"

"Me?" Neal asked innocently. "No, must have been Daniel."

"Yeah...right."


	25. Chapter 25

NOTE: I took this down for a quick rewrite. Enjoy!

* * *

><p>White Collar: The Eye of Sita<p>

Chapter Twenty-Five

Daniel walked briskly through the basement hallways of the Washington Federal Office with an irritated expression on his face. The air of frustration around him kept anyone in his path from stopping him to talk. People tended to try to avoid anyone who looked like they might lead to an unpleasant interaction. Particularly when that person was dressed like a Federal Agent complete with ID badge bouncing up and down on his lapel.

An intern scrambled out of Daniel's way as he turned the corner. Daniel had been wandering around the poorly labeled hallways for nearly fifteen minutes. He knew that every second he wasted being lost was just more time that could get him caught. Turning around he saw the intern hadn't made it very far.

"Hey, Kid." Daniel called.

"Yes, Agent?" The intern replied.

"I'm from the New York office and I can't find your Evidence Records."

"Um...first left, second right, third left then straight down to the end."

"Thanks."

The intern couldn't help but stare at the white blaze scar that streaked through Daniel's temple. Daniel narrowed his eyes menacingly and the intern turned around and hurried away. Daniel reached up and rubbed at the scar. Usually when he went out into the field he had a make-up artist team that covered it for him. Now that he was on his own he had no way to hide the distinguishing mark.

Rushing down the halls following the directions to the Evidence Daniel quickly found what he was looking for. Inside the small room young woman was sitting at a small desk typing at a computer. She ignored him as he stepped up to her desk. It wasn't until she glanced up and noticed that her visitor was handsome that she stopped her typing. Bringing her shoulders back to show off her slim figure she looked Daniel over with a smile.

"Hello," she greeted warmly "you're not from this office."

"No, I'm not." Daniel smiled right back at her. "I'm from the L.A office."

"L.A, must be nice to work out in the sun."

"It has its advantages."

"How can I help you, Agent..."

"Allens." Daniel provided.

"How can I help you, Agent Allens?" The records keeper purred.

"Agent Walters has brought me in to take a look at some paintings. I can't find Walters, but it's important that I take a look at the work as soon as possible."

"I would not have pegged you for a White Collar guy."

"I got my start in Violent Crimes, but after..." Daniel trailed off as he rubbed at his scared temple.

"Understandable." She said sympathetically. "Do you have a case number?"

"Um..." Daniel made a show of patting down his pockets. "I don't. I know the main suspect is a 'Neal Caffery'."

"Caffery. Yeah, I just put that stuff into inventory. That's case AC47823-097."

"You've got a good memory." Daniel complimented.

"Thank you."

"Is there a room down here that I can use to inspect the work?"

"There is. I have to see your identification, procedure and all."

"Of course."

Daniel reached into his breast pocket and pulled out his badge and handed it over. The badge would pass any inspection because it wasn't forgery. The NSA had given him badges for NSA, FBI, CIA, Marshals, and even one for Interpol, each with there own identity, and all authentic. In his line of work he never knew whose head he had to go over to get to what he wanted and it was good to be prepared to have jurisdiction.

"Your badge photo doesn't have you scar. It that a recent injury?"

"No." Daniel shook his head knowing that the scar did not look fresh. "It's an old picture."

"You should get this updated Agent Allens."

"I know, I'm still a little sensitive about the scar."

"Don't be," the woman smiled "it makes you distinctive."

"I'll take that as a complement." Daniel chuckled.

"It was. If you need someone to show you around Washington later." She offered suggestively.

"Perhaps after I get a look at those paintings."

"Work first." She sighed. "Yup, you're an Agent through and through."

"Thank you."

"That one wasn't exactly a complement."

The woman lead Daniel to a room a few doors down that had a large desk with high powered clamp lights and magnifying glasses on it. She excused herself and disappeared off into the Evidence vault to get the pantings. She returned with two other people helping her to bring the six paintings in at once. Daniel instructed them to place them on the table. Daniel looked over the paintings and furrowed his brow.

"I thought there were seven paintings."

"Another Agent had one of them transferred to New York."

"Really?" Daniel said with a trace of a smile. "Agent Burke?"

"That's right. Do you know him?"

"Our paths have crossed once or twice."

"Is there anything else you need, Agent?"

"Just a few hours to look these over, then maybe you can guide me towards a good place to get a drink."

"Sounds good."

Daniel waited a few minutes after the woman left before reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out a box cutter. Picking up the first painting he slashed along the boarders to get it out of the frame. Within minutes he had all six paintings out of their frames and rolled up tight. Taking off his jacket he draped it over the rolled up paintings.

He knew he wouldn't be able to get out of the building with the paintings so crudely hidden, but he already had a different plan. With jacket and paintings in hand Daniel stepped out into the hallway and turned to the right. Coming to the janitor's closet that he'd passed on the way here Daniel reached into his back pocket and pulled out a lock pick set.

Easily gaining access to the janitor supply closet Daniel stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Grabbing a large mop bucket and a bottle of concentrated industrial solvent Daniel brought the paintings out and unrolled them.

"Sorry about this, Neal, but these really are a rope around your neck."

One by one he placed the pantings in the bucket and poured the caustic chemical on them. When he was done all that was left of Neal's early work was a sickly gray slurry in the mop bucket. If they weren't found for a few more hours there wouldn't even bee any canvas left, it would be eaten by the solvent. In any case the evidence was useless now.

"Tampering with evidence...looks like Special Agent Daniel Allens' career is over."

Having done his 'good deed' for the day Daniel made a hasty retreat from the Federal Building. He knew that Peter would instantly identify him from the surveillance footage, but Daniel wasn't concerned with adding one more felony to his list of crimes at this point. He was a little worried about the missing Monet. He regretted adding it to the evidence that he'd given Walters to lure Neal and Peter to D.C.

"It had seemed like a good idea at the time."

Wandering the city Daniel eventually came to a pay phone in an area mostly populated by the homeless. It was just starting to get dark out as Daniel picked up the receiver. Digging a quarter out of his pants Daniel hesitated to place the call. He knew the call would be instantly traced, but at this point he wasn't sure that it mattered. Placing the quarter into the phone Daniel dialed.

"Daniel?" Michelle answered anxiously.

"It's me, Sugar."

"Do you have Liam?"

"No." Daniel whispered miserably. "I did everything they asked, they said they wouldn't release him for another month."

"Oh god..." Michelle whimpered. "Daniel come home, please."

"You know I can't do that."

"It's too late for secrets, as soon as you were off you tracker Jensen came right over. I told him everything. He understands, come home, he'll help us get Liam back."

"There is nothing he can do, there is nothing these people want from him. It's me they want, and they must want more from me." Daniel said softly. "Plus we both know that Jensen won't be able to stop the higher ups from putting me right back where they found me."

"Daniel, please, don't make them catch you, come back willingly..."

"Michelle, I can't risk being sent back to Texas while Liam is still out there." Daniel said softly. "I'm sorry, I can't come home."

"I can't do this alone." Michelle said through her tears. "I can't just sit here and wait."

"You haven't just been waiting, have you track down anyone looking into me?"

"The only hits on your old records came from the New York White Collar office after all this started. It can't be them."

"Someone found me, they had to leave some trace of that search."

"Unless..." Michelle started.

"I've already thought of that, it doesn't seem likely." Daniel interrupted. "We both know the NSA is tracking this call, I can't talk any longer."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

"Find our son, Daniel. Whatever it takes you bring him back."

"I will, I swear."

Daniel lingered for second, just listening to Michelle's breathing, before he hung up the phone. He knew that the NSA would have been waiting for him to contact his wife and they were most likely closing in on him right now. Daniel had interrupted Michelle just before she had said something about the possibility of this having been an inside job. It would be one way for someone to know his skill level without leaving tracks.

The only problem Daniel had with the theory of it being someone from the NSA was the fact that only people who knew about him were watched just as carefully as he was. The conspiracy would have to go all the way to the top for someone within to get away with orchestrating all of this.

"Even those guys are watched these days." Daniel muttered to himself.

For what amounted to an illegal task force the people that Daniel worked for had a lot of rules, regulations, as well as checks and balances. They were very careful to make sure that the only crimes being committed were the ones that they personally sanctioned. Feeling heavy hearted Daniel turned to leave.

Not feeling like finding a lonely hotel to spend the night in just yet Daniel continued to wander the less desirable district of DC. He hated not being able to actively search for his own son, but he had no idea where to start. Daniel started to second guess his decision to not return home. Even if they sent him directly back to prison at least he'd get the chance to spend some time with Michelle.

Standing at an intersection Daniel tried to decide which path to take. He jolted as the cell phone in his pocket rang shrilly. The phone had been left in Liam's place when he'd been taken and had been Daniel's only connection to the kidnappers. The phone did not make outgoing calls and there was no tracing the unknown number that rang in. With his heart racing Daniel answered the phone.

"I want my son back." Daniel demanded as a greeting.

"Caffrey," the familiar computerized voice greeted "there is a limo waiting for you on the corner of 55th and Lexington. You have fifteen minutes to get there."

"No." Daniel spat. "No more games, no more errands! I want to see him!"

"You have fourteen minutes."

Daniel cursed as the line went dead. Putting the phone away Daniel took off running. He knew it was pointless to argue or even converse with the voice, but he felt he had to try. Daniel was a solid two miles from the meeting place. He decided that it would take more time to steal a car than to just run there. Keeping at a dead run Daniel tore off his tie and ripped open the top button to help him breath.

It took Daniel just over sixteen minutes to dash through the streets and reach the limo. He was in good shape, but was still panting heavily when he crawled into the back of the limo. He reasoned that he'd been given this location for that exact reason.

Looking around Daniel found himself alone. The driver had the privacy screen up. The only thing in the back of limo with him was a small glass bottle with label on me that said 'Drink me'. Daniel picked up the bottle, opened it, and knocked back the contents without hesitation. As he suspected he instantly started feeling dizzy.

"I guess it's time to go down the rabbit hole...again."

Daniel laid down on the leather seat as his breathing became thick and heavy. Praying that he hadn't been truly poisoned Daniel closed his eyes and lost consciousness. When he opened his eyes again there was nothing but black. He had experienced this when he had delivered the diamond. He wasn't in darkness, the blindness was caused by a set of black contacts. Fighting against a pounding headache Daniel just laid still.

"Daddy..."

"Liam?" Daniel sat bolt upright.

"Daddy!"

Tears slipped from Daniel's blinded eyes as Liam threw himself against his chest. Hugging his son close Daniel rocked him gently as Liam cried. Only four years old he wasn't old enough to truly understand how dire his situation was, but he knew that he missed his parents. Shaking with relief that his son was still alive Daniel kissed the top of his head.

"Are you hurt?" Daniel asked softly.

Liam shook his head as he gripped Daniel's shirt tightly.

"I love you, don't worry, everything is going to be okay."

Unable to speak through his tears Liam just buried his face against Daniel's chest. Closing his blind eyes Daniel took a deep breath to try and calm himself so that he could comfort his son. He smoothed out Liam's blonde hair as he continued to rock gently. When he head a door opening he held Liam tighter. He glared in the general direction of the approaching footsteps.

"You have your proof of life, Caffrey, are you ready for one last errand?"

"Why should I trust you?" Daniel spat. "You didn't let him go last time."

"He'll die in your arms right here, right now if you don't cooperate."

"Fuck you! Come near him and I'll kill you!"

Daniel's blood chilled as he heard the sound of a gun being cocked. He curled up protectively around Liam, putting his own back to his tormenter in a desperate attempt to save his son. He braced himself for the shot, but instead several strong hands descended upon him. Daniel fought hard, but they still managed to tear Liam away from him. Daniel surged forward, but was held back by someone taking a grip on his hair and holding a knife to his throat.

"Daddy!" Liam screamed. "Help me!"

"Liam! Wait! No!" Daniel cried. "What do you want? What do you want?"

"For starters, what are you willing to do?"

"Anything!"

"That's what I like to hear." 


	26. Chapter 26

White Collar: The Eye of Sita

Chapter Twenty-Six

"I found you! I found you!"

Neal looked down at Alice who was tugging on his tailored pant leg. He smiled as she crossed her arms over her chest and put on her best pout.

"What's wrong, Alice?"

"You don't play by the rules." Alice complained.

"No, he doesn't." Sara agreed.

"Who are you?" Alice asked. "Are you his girlfriend?"

"Sometimes." Sara chuckled.

"Alice, Darling," Glass stepped up and tousled her blonde hair "go find your brother."

"Yes, Granddad." Alice motioned for Neal to bend down to her level.

"Yes, Alice?" Neal asked as he crouched down.

"She's pretty." Alice whispered in Neal's ear.

"I agree."

"Go on, Alice, off with you." Glass smiled.

With Neal still crouched down to her level Alice thanked him once more for the frog before throwing her arms around his neck for a quick hug before she ran off. Neal glanced up at Glass who was watching Alice leave with a loving expression.

"You have a wonderful granddaughter." Neal remarked as he stood back up.

"Thank you. My family is my life." Glass said proudly. "Do you have any children, Daniel?"

"A son...I lost him when he was only four."

"I am so sorry to hear that." Glass said sincerely.

"It was a violent death," Neal whispered as though relieving the traumatic event that never occurred "complexly preventable."

"I can't imagine the pain."

Neal tensed slightly as Glass reached out and put his hand on his shoulder, however the touch appeared to be one of genuine sympathy. Neal had been testing his reaction and found nothing that hinted towards a guilty conscious. That told Neal that either Glass truly knew nothing about Daniel's son, or he was a complete sociopath.

"If you two would rather eat in privacy I would understand." Glass offered. "We can talk later."

"Everything seems to already be set down here, we don't want to be rude." Neal replied. "We already agreed to join you for dinner."

"Wonderful. I have an excellent wine selection." Glass smiled. "I find that you artistic types tend to enjoy fine wines."

"Do you entertain artists often?"

"I entertain all kinds." Glass chuckled before offering his hand to Sara. "But rarely do I get to enjoy the company of such beauty."

Sara hesitated but she placed her hand in Glass' and accepted a gentlemanly kiss to the back of her hand. When Glass turned to walk towards the dinner table Sara reached over and wiped her kissed hand off on Neal's jacket. Neal tried to pull away, but she was too quick. Sara flashed him a triumphant smile before joining Glass at the dinner table.

Dinner consisted of several courses of fine gourmet food. The main dish of glazed salmon more than rivaled most restaurants Neal had dinned in, and the wine had been perfectly selected to complement the bright pink fish. Neal noticed that Sara only ate enough to be polite, showing that she was still nervous around Glass. Eventually the plates were cleared and Glass got to his feet.

"Miss Taylor, if I could borrow Daniel for a few minutes I would greatly appreciate it."

"Of course." Sara replied with a polite smile.

"Thomas will show you back to the studio."

Neal was taken by surprise by the way the guard materialized out of seemingly no where. Sara glanced to Neal and he gave her a slight nod. Glass noticed the exchange and smiled.

"I have no reason to hurt either of you." Glass reminded them. "Two of my grandchildren are in the house tonight, I would never risk violence with them around."

"I believe you." Neal said confidently.

"You can never be too careful in our line of work." Sara said without apology.

"Very true, my Dear, but there is nothing to fear here."

Again Neal tried to determine if Glass' words were from sincerity or just a well done act. If it was an act it was the best he'd ever seen. Sara left with Thomas and headed back towards the studio. Meanwhile Glass lead Neal through the hallways to a large study. Neal suddenly realized that without Sara Peter couldn't listen in on their conversation together. The ear piece was too conspicuous to wear and it was useless when placed in a pocket.

Glass invited Neal into a study that held a large mahogany desk in front of a window that had thick red curtains drawn. Neal's eye was instantly drawn to a Rembrandt that was on the wall. He knew the piece well, he'd had plans to steal it at one point, but it was sold at auction and disappeared before he got the chance. Distracted by the painting Neal didn't even notice that there was someone sitting in one of the large chairs in front of the desk with his back to them.

"Mr. Caffrey, this is...I'm sorry, I didn't get your name." Glass said with good social grace.

Neal managed to bite down on his tongue to keep from showing any outward signs of surprise when Daniel rose up from the chair and turned to face them. Daniel saw Neal and froze for a second before turning his attention to Glass. Neal looked to Glass, but he didn't seem to have noticed the flash of fear that Neal had caught in Daniel's eyes. Daniel pulled his shoulders back to enhance his already impressive height as he put his hands behind his back.

"Call me 'White'." Daniel said calmly.

"Mr. White, this is Daniel Caffrey, the artist."

Daniel's only response to hearing his own name was a bored stare. Neal noticed a recent bruise across Daniel's right cheek, but he couldn't remember if he was the one who had given it to him. However there was a thin fresh cut across his throat as though a blade had been pressed there that Neal knew he hadn't caused. Glass was visibly uneasy with Daniel's presence and Daniel did nothing to make him feel any better.

"Glass," Neal turned to Glass and lowered his voice "I don't like working with people I don't know, and I certainly don't feel comfortable working with people that you don't know either."

"I've been assured that his trustworthiness and loyalty are absolute."

"Assured by who?"

"My client."

"Who's your client."

"Mr. Caffrey, if you don't want this job feel free to walk away. I will pay you for your trouble, but only half the sum offered. Stay and I'll triple your fee."

"So I'm free to just walk out that door?" Neal asked doubtfully.

"Of course."

"He won't try to stop me?" Neal gestured toward Daniel.

"His only role here is to ensure the security of my diamonds during the last stages of your sculpture."

"Yet you don't even know his name."

"The details are none of your concern, Mr. Caffrey." Glass growled darkly. "All I need to know is are you staying or leaving?"

Neal had absolutely no intention of leaving, but he paused as though thinking it over. He glanced over at Daniel. Looking nervous Daniel silently pleaded from him to go. Neal furrowed his brow slightly at Daniel's request for him to walk away. Neal turned his attention back to Glass.

"I'll stay, but Miss Taylor gets to go home."

"Is that acceptable, Mr. White?" Glass asked.

"I'm only interested in the artist." Daniel said gruffly. "The woman is free to go."

"So...why is having me stay suddenly worth triple?" Neal asked.

"I have something I want you to add to the statue."

"This is what you need my 'discretion' for." Neal stated rather than asked.

"Exactly." Glass nodded. "Come have seat, can I get either of you a brandy."

"No, thank you." Neal and Daniel answered in unison.

"You're both from Texas, aren't you?"

"What makes you say that?" Neal asked with a touch of surprise.

"There is a certain cadence to your tone when you decline an offer from an elder. Something I've noticed on my trips to Texas."

Neal and Daniel looked at one another again, both sensing a trap. However Glass simply walked over to the small bar that was set in the side wall. While Glass went over and poured himself a drink Neal stepped up to Daniel. Daniel narrowed his eyes at Neal and mouthed his own name in a silent question as to why he was using his name as an alias. Neal flashed Daniel an apologetic smile. Looking somehow broken Daniel just dropped his gaze to the floor and sat back down.

Neal took the chair next to Daniel and waited for Glass to return. When Glass went over to a wall safe Neal hopped that he was about to bring out the Hope Diamond. Glass pulled out a black box the size of an unabridged oxford dictionary and brought it over to the desk. He sat down across the table from his guests and opened the box. Neal was disappointed to see several pounds of various sized cut diamonds. Daniel wasn't particularly impressed either.

"I get the feeling you two are used to seeing expensive things." Glass chuckled. "Most men gasp when confronted by fifty million dollars worth of diamonds."

"Diamond are only expensive because the supply is controlled." Neal shrugged as he reached out and took one of the stones for closer inspection. "I doubt this box of rocks cost you more than a million to purchase. These were cut in China, so that didn't add much to the costs."

"You know your diamonds, Mr. Caffrey." Glass said with approval.

"China cuts their stones too deep, it makes the carat value higher, but reduces the refractive sparkle that you get with an ideal cut."

"True." Glass nodded. "But your average consumer doesn't care, they just want a diamond."

"I assume these are African in origin. Blood diamonds?"

"Don't concern yourself with where they came from, concern yourself with where they are going. I want you to embed these into the statue of Sita to decorate her clothing."

"What about her eyes?" Neal asked.

"What about them?"

"Traditionally Hindu statues had large diamonds set in their eyes."

"No." Glass shook his head. "I want the eyes sculpted without stones."

"You don't trust me with your larger stones?" Neal asked with a raised eyebrow. "I can assure you that I can keep a secret. The finished statue will be much more impressive if you let me set the diamond eyes."

"Just do as your told, Caffery." Daniel hissed.

"I take it you're going to babysit me while I finish the statue?" Neal asked calmly. "Make sure I don't try to smuggle some of these stones out of here?"

"Something like that."

"Mr. Caffery, are you still interested in finishing your work?" Glass asked.

"Yes."

"How long will it take to complete the statue?"

"I should be done by sunrise."

"Perfect."

Glass got to his feet as his guard returned. Glass and Thomas escorted Daniel and Neal back upstairs to the studio. When they stepped inside Sara's eyes widened slightly at seeing Daniel, however she recovered quickly. Neal walked up to her and put his arms around her and brought his lips to her ear.

"Trust me." Neal whispered.

Neal gave Sara's cheek a kiss as he reached up behind her and undid the clasp on the transmitter necklace that she was wearing. He deftly caught the necklace as it fell and slipped it into his jacket pocket in one fluid motion.

"Go home, Hon." Neal said casually. "No sense in us both being up all night, I can finish the job from here."

"Are you sure?" Sara asked.

"I am. Call me when you get to the hotel."

Sara clearly didn't want to leave, however she went with Thomas. Neal had added the last part to make it clear to Glass that if Sara didn't call him soon he would be demanding an explanation. Glass handed over the heavy box of diamonds. He gave Daniel one last nervous glance before leaving.

"What are you doing here, Neal?" Daniel demanded as soon as they were alone.

"I'm looking for the Hope Diamond and your son. What are you doing here?"

"Following orders." Daniel sighed miserably. "Can Peter hear us?"

"He can." Neal nodded as he brought out Sara's necklace.

"Agent Burke," Daniel spoke directly to Peter "please don't arrest Glass, he is part of this, but he does not have my son, he doesn't have the Hope Diamond either. Please, my son's life depends on getting this statue delivered."

"Peter can't arrest Glass, so far he hasn't done anything illegal that we can prove." Neal explained. "How do you know Glass doesn't have your son?"

"Because I was just with the men who do." Daniel dragged his hands through his hair and started to pace back and forth.

"Daniel?"

"I had him in my arms, Neal." Daniel growled in frustration as he rubbed at the cut on his throat. "They took me to him just so they could tear him away from me again. They gave me new orders, I tried to fight them, I tried to say no...but they promised me that if I didn't do exactly what they wanted that in the end I would beg them to end his life myself just to put him out of his misery."

"Did they hurt him?" Neal asked concerned.

From the way Daniel's face went ashen pale Neal realized that they must have. Daniel looked like he was going to be sick at any moment. Neal stepped up to his friend and pulled him into a comforting embrace. Daniel accepted the supportive touch and rested his head on Neal's shoulder for a moment. Neal was sharply reminded of a time when Daniel was sixteen and he'd come to Neal in the middle of the night seeking comfort. At the time Neal had simply given him a shoulder to cry on without asking why. Just like then Daniel quickly composed himself and pulled away.

"They broke his wrist." Daniel whispered in horror. "I had already agreed to do anything they wanted and they still snapped his bones just to prove to me that they were willing to make him pay the price if I decided to back out. These men are monsters, Neal. I was forced to hold him while they did it. They laughed as I begged them to show mercy."

"I'm so sorry, Daniel." Neal said softly.

"They will not hesitate to kill him. Even if I do everything they want they will probably kill us both anyway."

"I'm not going to let that happen."

"I would have fought them to the death right then and there...but I can't do anything until Liam's safe."

"Liam?" Neal repeated in surprise. "My first alias?"

Daniel smiled slightly and just nodded.

"Daniel, Peter and I are going to do everything we can to help you get your son back. What do they want from you?"

Daniel didn't answer right away. He just started at the half finished statue that now dominated the center of the room. He seemed to be truly studying it. Even at this stage it was a beautiful work. Neal waited for an answer, but Daniel had become lost in thought.

"Daniel?"

"They sent me to bring them the statue."

"That could work to our advantage." Neal replied thoughtfully.

"They also want the artist so that he can do the 'finishing touches'."

"We can plan around that." Neal nodded.

"...and then they want me to kill him."

"Okay, that part of the plan could use some adjusting." 


	27. Chapter 27

White Collar: The Eye of Sita

Chapter Twenty-Seven

"Neal, no, absolutely not."

"Peter..."

"The answer is 'no'." Peter repeated. "It's not even my call, it's Walters'."

"Don't even pretend to hide behind Walters on this, Peter."

"Fine." Peter sighed. "It's my call, and I don't trust Daniel."

"I do."

"With your life?" Peter asked seriously over the small ear piece.

"Yes."

"What about when he's forced to weight your life against that of his son?"

"It won't come to that." Neal said firmly.

"And if it does?"

"It won't."

"Neal..."

"Peter, this is our only chance, for both the Hope and Liam."

"I don't give a damn about that overpriced rock, Neal, the instant you see that kid we're moving in."

"Fair enough."

"Are you going to wear Sara's necklace to keep in contact?" Peter asked doubtfully.

"No. I have a better idea." Neal smiled.

"Keep it close, and be careful."

"I will." Neal said seriously. "Is Sara with you?"

"She is, she's safe."

"Good. I'll contact you one last time before we leave."

"Watch you back, Neal." Peter warned again.

Neal pulled the ear piece out and tossed it onto the couch. He didn't like having Peter buzzing in his ear, it was way too much like having an active conscience. Daniel had been standing near by looking uncharacteristically nervous. Although he could only hear Neal's side of the conversation it wasn't hard to guess the other half. Daniel glanced at the necklace transceiver in Neal's hand before he looked up at Neal and smiled sadly.

"Peter doesn't trust me, does he?"

"You did kidnap and strangle him."

"Good point."

"Okay, I've got a lot of work to do." Neal stated as he looked over at the half finished sculpture.

"That's not necessary. Glass thinks you get to finish it here and just walk away from this, but I was told to bring the artist and the sculpture in tonight. They plan to force you into finishing it."

"Okay." Neal nodded. "Let me just add one finishing touch."

"Neal, stop being such a perfectionist. You've already got the job, let's just go."

"This is an important detail."

Neal stepped up to the statue and secured the necklace around her neck. He spent a few minutes carefully laying a thin layer of clay over the gold. When he was done the necklace looked like it had been sculpted onto the statue. Neal went over to the couch and picked up the ear piece to let Peter know that everything was set. The ear piece only buzzed static at him, Neal tapped on it, but it didn't help.

"Something wrong, Neal?" Daniel asked.

"Ear piece is broken."

"What?"

"Not really a surprise, these things are a lot more delicate than you'd think. Peter can still hear us through the necklace."

"How do you know?"

"He would have moved in on us by now if he couldn't. We're all set to go. The voice will cut out fairly quickly on the necklace it doesn't have much of a range, but the GPS will keep working."

"Neal..." Daniel hesitated.

"What's wrong?"

"Maybe you shouldn't do this."

"It's a little late for that now, isn't it?"

"No. You can still walk away, but once we are face to face with these men there will be no backing out."

"I'm not interested in backing out, Daniel." Neal said firmly. "Don't worry, it's going to work. I've got the best back up in the business."

Daniel still looked hesitant, but he nodded. Neal could see the stress in Daniel's usually confident eyes. The past twenty years had aged him far more than Neal. Turning to the problem at hand Neal was a bit curious as to how Daniel planned to move the half ton statue, but Daniel knew more about the room than he did. Hidden behind a set of oriental screens against the far wall as a service elevator just for removing art from the studio. They used a pallet jack that was in the elevator to move the whole dais that the statue had been built on.

Neal thought it was a little strange that Glass wasn't waiting for them down at the small loading area where the moving van was waiting. However, it didn't really change their plan in anyway. Getting the heavy statue up the ramp and into the back of the enclosed truck was not easy, but they managed. Daniel had the box of diamonds and put them in the front seat of the van. He walked around to the back of the trunk where Neal was putting the finishing touches on securing the still wet statue in the back corner.

"Drive carefully, Daniel, this is still wet and very delicate."

"Not to mention you'll be riding back here."

"That too." Neal smiled.

"Neal..." Daniel paused once again. "I can't thank you enough, you know that right?"

"You'd do the same for me."

"I'd like to think so." Daniel nodded. "Are we ready?"

"All set. Do you know where the meeting place is?"

"No." Daniel pulled out a cell phone. "They are going to call once I reach the gas station on the corner."

"They play it safe, don't they?"

"We're dealing with professionals, professionals with money."

"Always a dangerous combination."

Daniel took a breath to say something more, but then just turned away. Neal understood Daniel's hesitation, there was just as much chance that this would go wrong as right. With the FBI now involved the men holding his son could easily spook and cut their losses. Neal reminded himself that Liam wasn't going to see his father again if extreme measures weren't taken. As Daniel started the truck Neal pulled down the rolling door.

Sitting in the dark of the back of the van Neal tried to guess where they were going by the turns Daniel made. He was confident if he was in New York that he could do it, but here in DC he didn't know the street layout well enough. Neal looked sightlessly at where the statue was, he still didn't fully comprehend the motivation behind all of this trouble. Daniel didn't seem to have any good theories either.

After about an hour of weaving around the city the van finally can to a stop. Neal figured that they had been sending Daniel to different check points to make sure he wasn't being followed. That would have forced Peter and Walters to hang back further and further. At this point there was little chance that the transmitter was still doing audio.

"Just in case you can hear me, Peter, I want you to know that I will have no regrets about how this turns out as long as Liam is safe. If it does come down to me or him, save Daniel's son."

Neal tensed and got to his feet at the door to the back of the van rolled up. A quick glance outside showed that they were in the middle of pretty much no where. Neal had been expecting several men to be waiting at the open door. However it was only Daniel who crawled up into the back with Neal. He had a small black case in his hand that looked like an old fashioned doctor's bag.

"Daniel, what's going on?"

"Do you think Peter can hear us? We've been driving the last ten minutes without seeing anyone."

"No, the range is very short."

"Okay, well, they should be here any minute now." Daniel announced. "I should probably tie your hands."

"Good idea."

Neal turned around and held his hands behind his back. Daniel walked up, put the bag down and opened it. Retrieving a small length of white cloth he wrapped it around Neal's wrists and tied it off. Neal tugged on them, experimenting with getting free.

"Too tight?" Daniel asked.

"No. I could probably get out in an emergency, but it's still tight enough to look like you meant to keep me secured."

"Good. Hold still for a second."

Neal didn't question Daniel's intentions and did as he was told. When he felt a sharp jab pierce through his pants and down into his muscle at his hip he jerked away. Turning around Neal stared in horror at the now empty syringe in Daniel's hand.

"Hey!" Neal protested. "What was that?"

"Just a little Ketamine to numb the area."

"Ketamine? Wha..." Neal trailed off as the powerful anesthetic started to take effect.

"I couldn't talk to you about this while Peter still listening. He would never go for it, I'm not even sure you will. However, I'm out of options, I can't have the FBI storming in and starting a fire fight."

"Dani..." Neal tried to finished but the floor seemed to slip out from underneath him.

"Woah!" Daniel exclaimed as he reached out and caught Neal. "What is wrong with you?"

"Yo...you drugged me..." Neal accused.

"No, no, it's not supposed to be strong enough to knock you out."

"I disagree..." Neal muttered.

"Neal?"

Unable to stand on his own Neal started to slide to the floor of the moving truck. Daniel tried to keep him on his feet, but it quickly became a losing battle. Easing Neal down on the floor Daniel smacked his cheek a few times as though trying to sober him up. Wanting nothing more than to curl up and go to sleep Neal closed his eyes. Confused Daniel reached into the black case and pulled out the drug vial for a closer look.

"Oh shit, I grabbed the wrong stuff...this one is for 'Equine Use Only'." Daniel read the print on the side of the bottle. "Neal? Neal, you still with me?"

Neal could hear Daniel, but he couldn't respond. Daniel checked his pulse and peeled back one of his eyelids. Trying to talk to tell him to go away Neal just ended up growling at Daniel. Sighing heavily Daniel picked up a large syringe that came in a plastic package and ripped it open with his teeth. He was saying something, but Neal couldn't understand any of it.

Heavily sedated Neal made no protests when Daniel sunk the second needle deep into the flesh just below the crest of his hip. The Ketamine made what would have been a excruciating procedure little more than a dull ache. Daniel pulled out the thick gauged needle and pressed his palm against the injection site for a minute to slow the bleeding. Sensing something was wrong Neal forced his eyes open again.

"Please forgive me if this doesn't work." Daniel said softly. "You stand half a chance against these men, my son is defenseless."

Neal agreed with the statement, but he still didn't understand what was going on. He looked up at Daniel, but couldn't say anything. He furrowed his brow when he saw the blood on Daniel's hand. Throwing the oversized needle and the packaging it had come in back in the small case Daniel pulled out another piece of cloth.

Feeling completely disconnected from his own body and unable to control it Neal peacefully allowed Daniel to work a gag between his teeth. With his hands already tied behind his back Neal looked up at Daniel once more. Daniel leaned in and kissed Neal's forehead gently before getting to his feet and leaving the back of the truck. Closing his eyes Neal marveled at how comfortable the cold metal floor was.

It was only a few minutes before Neal could hear more car approaching. Their tires made a grumbling sound as they rolled across the loose asphalt of the abandoned parking lot. Daniel was standing just a few feet from the back of the truck, his broad shouldered silhouette was highlighted as the headlights came to rest on him. Neal listened as the men got out of their cars to claim their prize.

"Caffrey," a strong male voice barked "you better have what I want."

"You'd better have what I want."

"Your boy's here."

Daniel stood his ground as several strong men pushed past him and crawled up into the back of the moving truck. Neal groaned uselessly as they tried to force him to his feet. Still unable to stand the men simply dragged him over to the edge of the truck's loading deck. Dropped back to the floor Neal quickly found his head being pulled back as the man who had threatened Daniel yanked on his hair to get a look at his face. Neal stared back at him with unfocused eyes.

"Neal Caffrey." He purred as he smiled at his captive. "The FBI's favorite pet."

"You can't blame me for this." Daniel said quickly. "Glass put out an call for the best forger, here he is. You told me to go get the artist, and I did exactly that. You want your statue or not?"

"Easy, Daniel, calm down. I didn't say I wasn't happy or even that I wasn't expecting him."

"Wait...what?" Daniel asked in shock.

"Let's go," the man demanded of his minions "we don't have much time before the FBI shows up. They keep a close eye on this one."

"I made sure I wasn't followed and he doesn't have his tracking anklet." Daniel said. "I have just as much reason to keep away from the FBI as you do."

"I believe that."

"I have done everything you've asked." Daniel growled. "Now give me my son."

The leader of the group nodded and one of the other men opened the back door of one of the four SUVs that had arrived. The man outside the door had to reach in and force Liam to leave the relative safety of the car. It wasn't until he caught sight of his father that he cooperated.

"Daddy!" Liam cried desperately.

"Liam!"

Daniel got down on one knee and held out his arms to encourage Liam to run to him. Liam pulled away from the man who had been holding him and ran to his father. He had his broken wrist in a makeshift splint that he held close to his chest. When Liam reached him Daniel scooped him up in his powerful arms and lifted him up as he got back to his feet. Whimpering in fear Liam pressed himself against his father's chest in hopes that he wouldn't be torn away from him again.

"Let's go, Caffrey." The leader ordered.

"What?"

"You didn't think we were just going to set you free, did you?" He chuckled darkly.

"Wait, the necklace on the statue, it's an FBI tracking device. Give it to my son, leave him here, and I will come with you peacefully."

Two of the men were already inspecting the statue and having heard Daniel they quickly came out with the clay coated necklace. The leader made a gesture to his men and they tossed the necklace to him. Stepping up to Daniel he stuffed the necklace in Liam's back pocket. Daniel put his son down on the hard asphalt gently. Liam cried out and wrapped his arms around Daniel's leg.

"Daddy loves you, but I have to go." Daniel said softly as he untangled himself from Liam's embrace. "Be good, stay here."

"No!"

"It's okay, Liam, Uncle Peter will be here soon to get you."

"Daddy..."

"You can trust him."


	28. Chapter 28

NOTE: I took some small liberties with technology on this chapter, but trust me White Collar does that *all* of the time, so I figured I can too.

* * *

><p>White Collar : The Eye of Sita<p>

Chapter twenty-eight

"Something's wrong."

Peter stared at the small dot on the screen that told him where the necklace was as though the sheer intensity of his glare could make it move. The voice had cut out long ago, and now after an hour of constant travel the GPS had been in the same place for nearly half an hour. Sara sat next to Peter in the surveillance van with an anxious expression. Walters looked exhausted and not looking forward to the paperwork involved in the death of a CI.

"We should move in." Walters said.

"What if Neal and Daniel are negotiating for Liam?" Sara asked. "If we show up things will go from bad to worse."

"No." Peter shook his head. "Things have already gone from bad to worse. The kidnappers would not hang around for half an hour."

"The deal went South." Walters said coldly. "They didn't buy Caffery's story, they cleaned up their loose ends and left us with the mess."

"Loose ends?" Sara snarled. "You're talking about our friend, and the life of a child!"

"Easy, Sara." Peter reached out and put his hand on her shoulder. "We don't know anything yet, Walters. Neal is amazingly good at talking people out of killing him. Let's get close enough to get the audio back up."

Peter's words were mostly for Sara's benefit, deep down he was terrified that they were about to come across a slaughter. The kidnappers had already shown that they had no problems with using violence to solve their problems. If they caught the scent of FBI on Neal they wouldn't hesitate to kill him, Daniel, and the kid. Peter knew he wasn't prepared to see the recently reunited family murdered, but he had no idea how to prepare for something like that.

As Walters had the driver take them closer to the GPS location Peter looked over at Sara. She had her arms wrapped over her stomach as though she was going to be sick. When she saw that Peter was watching her she forced a brave smile. Peter did the same in return, but he knew that he didn't look hopeful. They had been distantly tailing the van that Neal and Daniel were in so it only took about fifteen minutes before they came to the lonely stretch of road that would lead them to the necklace.

"Voice is back up." Walters announced.

Peter turned up the volume on the speakers. His greatest fear was that there would be nothing but silence. However there was a faint sound coming through. Peter furrowed his brow as he tried to pick out the sound.

"What is that?" Peter asked.

"That's someone crying." Sara answered confidently.

"Doesn't sound like a man," Walters added "sounds like a child."

"Liam." Peter whispered.

"Step on it." Walters demanded of his driver. "Get us there now."

The GPS location lead them to an abandoned parking lot. The building had been torn down long ago and the weeds were taking over. There was little in the way of cover, just a small piece of concrete barricade off to the North side. Peter stepped out of the van with his weapon in hand, asking Sara and Walters to stay back for the moment. The van that Daniel and Neal had driven was no where in sight.

Peter didn't like being out in the open as he walked towards the middle of the lot. There was really only one direction for fire to come from and that was the concrete barricade. However, the night remained quiet as the night breeze brushed past. Coming to the center of the lot Peter glanced down at a shiny black stain on the broken asphalt. Keeping alert to a possible ambush from the North he crouched down and dabbed one fingertip in the stain. Looking at his hand a chill ran down his spine as he realized that the stain was blood.

"I've got blood out here." Peter said quietly.

Walters acknowledged Peter through the ear piece and asked if he wanted back up, but Peter said no. The last thing he wanted right now was to put someone else in danger. The blood wasn't enough to be fatal and there were no drag marks. If someone shot Neal and Daniel they took them behind the concrete barrier first. Since there was no reason to do that Peter had renewed hope that his partner was still alive somewhere.

Coming to the barricade Peter looked over the four foot tall structure. Curled up on the far side with his back up against the concrete lay Liam. Peter instantly caught sight of the gold clay covered necklace that had been stuffed into his back pocket. Liam was shivering and gasping for breath between his quiet tears. Peter's heart stumbled in its rhythm in sympathy as he looked down on the miserable frightened child.

"Liam?" Peter asked softly.

Liam gasped in terror and looked up at Peter. Trying his best to look unthreatening Peter smiled. The only thing Liam saw was the gun in Peter's hand. Welding his eyes shut Liam took a deep breath and screamed at the top of his lungs. Peter realized his mistake and put his gun back in its holster. The damage had been done and Liam just continued to scream.

"Sara!" Peter called. "Get out here!"

Sara got out of the van and hurried over. She came to the barricade and looked over at Liam. Curled up even tighter he was continuing to cry out in panic. He hugged his injured wrist against his chest.

"Do something." Peter urged.

"Like what?" Sara asked seriously. "I...I don't know anything about kids, not really my thing."

"Just try to calm him. I don't think he's going to trust a male at this point."

"Um...right. Okay..."

Sara stepped around to Liam's side of the concrete wall. She reached out to touch him, but hesitated and pulled her hand back. He had stopped screaming, but was weeping bitterly. Sitting down on the ground a few feet away from him Sara looked to Peter for help. He motioned for her to say something.

"Liam?" Sara said gently. "Liam, my name's Sara. I'm here to help you."

Daring to open his dark eyes Liam looked up at Sara. There was clear relief in his expression to see a woman rather than just another strange man. Scrambling to her Liam threw himself at Sara. Gasping in surprise Sara automatically wrapped her arms around him as he pressed against her for comfort. Sara reached up and smoothed out his hair and held him close as he shivered and continued to cry.

"He's freezing, Peter."

"Here." Peter took off his jacket and handed it to her.

Sara took Peter's jacket and wrapped it around Liam's shoulders. Peter came around to help Sara get to her feet with Liam still in her arms. Liam made no protest as they brought him back to the van where Walters was waiting just outside the door. He noticed the necklace and pulled it out of Liam's back pocket before helping Sara back into the van. Sara sat down with Liam curled up in her lap in Peter's jacket. He kept his face hidden against her chest as she gently rocked him.

"He needs medical attention right away." Walters noted. "Peter, I'll have a forensics team come out here, but we should get him to the hospital."

"Absolutely." Peter nodded.

The driver started to take them back towards the city. While they drove Walters started taking apart the tracking necklace. Peter looked over in curiosity.

"Walters, was that recording?"

"Of course."

With Liam slowly calming Peter turned his attention to listening in to Neal and Daniel. Walters fast forwarded through everything that they had heard and cut to the sounds of the van moving. There was a long stretch where nothing was said, just the sounds of the traffic. When Neal's voice came through the speaker Peter leaned in closer to listen.

'Just in case you can hear me, Peter,' Neal spoke calmly 'I want you to know that I will have no regrets about how this turns out as long as Liam is safe. If it does come down to me or him, save Daniel's son.'

Peter closed his eyes against the sudden sting of tears. His breath had caught in his throat at the sincerity and finality in Neal's voice. Peter realized that at least part of Neal must have never expected to live through this. Peter couldn't ever recall a time when Neal truly realize that there might be real consequences to any of his actions. Until this moment he had always portrayed himself as somehow immune to death, cocky to the point of recklessness. Peter looked over at Liam huddled in Sara's arms, he reached out and gently touched Liam's blonde hair.

"Neal's come a long way in two years, hasn't he?" Sara asked softly.

"He certainly has." Peter replied with a touch of pride.

"Peter, we have to find him." Sara practically begged.

"We will."

"How?"

"I have no idea." Peter admitted. "One step at a time. We need to take care of Liam first."

"Peter," Walters said "there's more...it sounds like Daniel double crossed your boy."

Peter turned his attention back to the recording. He listened as Daniel surprised Neal with a needle and drugged him. He ground his teeth in anger at himself for trusting Daniel, or rather for listening to Neal when his gut had told him that this was the wrong move. Ultimately he was responsible for Neal.

"Damn it, Daniel," Peter growled "you're going to get Neal and yourself killed."

'Neal Caffery.' A dangerous voice sang. 'The FBI's favorite pet.'

"Neal's cover's blown." Peter said in alarm as the conversation continued. "They were expecting him? How is that possible?"

"Glass must have recognized him." Walters guessed. "He just went along with it. Caffrey had no chance from the start. For all we know Daniel knew Glass would recognize Neal. He may have even been the primary target, why else put out a call for a forger for a legal job?"

Peter resisted the urge to punch Walters, but he knew it was more his anger at himself that made him want to lash out. The recording eventually lead to Liam crying alone as the men drove off with his father. Walters turned it off. Peter had hopped that something on the tape would help them find Neal, but there were no hints. Neal could be headed for anywhere, or already dead from the overdoes of horse tranquilizer

"I hope you meant what you said about no regrets, Neal." Peter sighed.

They quickly arrived at the hospital and from there everything became a bit of a blur. Liam's wrist required surgery and although he wasn't the boy's father Peter took over as his legal guardian. Peter couldn't believe how many signatures were required to get Liam the emergency help he desperately needed. While Liam was in surgery Walters returned to help the forensic's team. Finding Neal was still his best chance of retrieving the Hope Diamond.

Sara stayed with Peter while they waited for Liam to be brought into the recovery room. Sitting on the small couch Peter offered Sara his lap as a pillow so that she could get some sleep. She insisted that she wasn't tired, but as the night turned to to the early hours of the morning eventually she accepted the offer. Peter nodded off at one point as well, only waking when Liam was brought back in.

The doctor informed Peter that Liam had done well despite being dehydrated. Liam was brought in and placed in the hospital bed with an IV helping him with hydration. He was locked in sleep and the doctor said that he would probably stay that way for several more hours. While Peter watched over Daniel's son the sun rose and poured through the window behind him. Sara was jolted awake when Peter's cell phone rang.

"Sorry." Peter said as he fished out the phone.

"Is Liam okay?" Sara asked as she sat up and looked over at the sleeping child.

"He's fine physically," Peter replied as his phone continued to ring "mentally he's been through a lot."

"Are you going to answer your phone?"

"I don't recognize the number." Peter said as he accepted the call. "Agent Burke."

"Good morning," a friendly female voice chimed "I'm looking for Peter Burke."

"Speaking."

"My name is Laurie, from Fido Find."

"Fido Find?"

"Yes, Sir. I just wanted to let you know that we've completed registration on your friend."

"My friend?" Peter repeated her again.

"I just want to make sure we have the details right." Laurie said cheerfully. "I have your dog registered as a mixed breed, white, male, with blue eyes."

"My...dog?" Peter asked confused. "My dog is a yellow lab, and I haven't registered him with anyone."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Sir, there must have been some mistake. I'm sorry to bother you."

"Woah, wait a minute, did you say a white male with blue eyes?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Is his name 'Neal'?"

"That's right. Is Neal your dog?"

"He'd be upset to hear me call him that, but yes. How exactly does your service work?"

"The microchip implanted under your dog's skin gives off a signal that is triangulated through cell phone towers so that he can be tracked within a ten meter radius."

"Where is he?" Peter asked quickly. "Right now. Where is he right now?"

"You can down load our Ap and track him yourself, his ID is 712869. I will text you the information."

"Thank you. You're a lifesaver, literally."

"Peter?" Sara asked. "What's going on?"

"It looks like Daniel managed to implant Neal with a dog GPS tracking implant of some sort."

"An implant? That's a much better idea than an anklet."

"If it works I might just keep the service."

Peter flicked through the text he received with the information from Fido Find. The application to track the chip took a few minutes to download. When it did it spent a few more minutes finding the signal. A small color map of DC showed up on Peter's phone with a little red blinking dot that gave him the chip's location. Peter read the cross streets and flipped over to the internet to figure out what was there. When he discovered the landmarks near by his heart sunk.

"That's not good."

"Peter?" Sara asked nervously. "Where's Neal?"

"Technically...India."


	29. Chapter 29

NOTE: Sorry this took so long.

* * *

><p>White Collar : The Eye of Sita<p>

Chapter twenty-nine

Jolted awake into a haze of pain Neal bit down hard on the cloth still between his teeth from. Blind and disoriented he couldn't decide if his head or hip hurt more. His senses were being assaulted by a screeching noise that slowly revealed itself to be some sort of music being forced on him by a pair of earbuds. Neal's headache was being made worse by the second from the incessant base thumping and distorted electronica.

The dangerously high volume music made it difficult to concentrate on what was happening in his surroundings. The Ketamine wasn't helping his mental acuity at the moment either. Deciding that he was still laying on the cold floor of the van he tugged at the restraints that Daniel had tied. With a bit of effort he managed to free his hands.

Neal instantly went to tear off the headphones to stop the pounding music. His wrist was instantly captured by a strong hand to stop him. With very few options available he bit down on his attackers hand. A bright flash of pain against his temple informed him that it was not his best plan. Neal did his best to remain conscious but he quickly lost the battle.

The next time Neal fluttered his eyes open he was greeted by a view of a white ceiling. Still suffering from the headache, the relentless throbbing in his hip, and now a similar pain across his temple Neal just closed his eyes again. He suddenly felt someone run their hand gently through his hair. Opening his eyes Neal looked up, Daniel looked down at him with an expression of concern. Daniel was sitting on the floor allowing Neal to use his lap as a pillow.

"You alive, Neal?"

"Unfortunately," Neal moaned "Ugh...I can still hear that horrible noise."

"Noise?" Daniel asked before remembering the headphones dangling around his neck. "Oh, yeah, that's the iPod. They used them to keep us from figuring out where we were gong by sound, kinda clever actually. They let me keep it."

"It's torture."

"It's 'Skrillex'."

"Torture." Neal repeated as he closed his eyes again.

"I kinda like it." Daniel chuckled.

"You would."

"Next time I'll ask them to have some Mozart on hand for you."

"That would be better." Neal agreed.

"Hard to believe you were born in Texas, clearly a mistake in the Universe." Daniel clucked. "You were always meant for New York."

"I miss New York."

"I bet."

"What about Liam?"

"He's safe. I'm sure Peter has him by now." Daniel assured. "I can never thank you enough for trading your life for his."

"We're not dead yet."

"It's the fact that you were willing to that counts."

"Any idea where we are?"

"No, but hopefully Peter does." Daniel replied. "I'm sure he does if that thing under your skin is doing its job."

"What did you do to me?" Neal asked annoyed. "My hip is killing me."

"Before I tell you, please understand that I didn't know it was going to be you at Glass' house."

"Daniel, what did you do?" Neal repeated in alarm as he sat up.

"I may have broken into a veterinary clinic and stolen a subcutaneous animal companion tracking device."

"Animal companion?" Neal asked.

"It's made for dogs." Daniel admitted.

"Feels more like it's meant for horses."

"Yeah, that's why I grabbed the Ketamine. The needle for that thing was as thick as a pencil. It's not designed to be in the muscle."

"I noticed." Neal said ruefully as he gingerly rubbed his hip.

"Is it really painful?"

"It's not comfortable, but I've certainly been through worse." Neal sighed as he took his hand away from injection site. "How does it work? If I didn't know about it, how is Peter supposed to know to look for the signal?"

"I...uh...I kinda of registered you on a national database as Peter's dog."

"What?"

"They'll call in the morning to confirm his ownership of a white male mutt with blue eyes."

"I am going to kill you." Neal snarled darkly.

"What? It might save our lives."

"I am *never* going to hear the end of this." Neal groaned. "I bet I get at least six dog collars on my next birthday."

"One of them will be from me." Daniel smiled brightly. "Speaking of which did you get the birthday cards I sent you?"

"The blank cards, that was you?"

"They're not blank."

"I tried everything to reveal an invisible ink on them."

"Silver nitrate."

"I tried silver nitrate."

"Did you peel the card apart first?" Daniel asked with a smug smile.

"I didn't think of that." Neal admitted.

"Try it sometime."

"How do you know I still have them?"

"By knowing you."

Neal was forced to smile. He did still have the cards, at least the ones that he hadn't destroyed by trying to develop the invisible ink. Neal looked around the small featureless room. There were scuff marks on the floor along with a few small scraps of paper. The door was nothing special, just an average interior door. The room was lit by a double strip florescent light.

"Not exactly a high security cell, eh?" Daniel asked as he noticed Neal taking in their surroundings.

"No. Looks like a basement storage room."

"My thoughts exactly." Daniel nodded. "I could break that door down with my shoulder, and now that you're awake I think will."

"I assume there is an armed guard outside."

"Only two. I can get them both without any trouble."

"Get them? Daniel, no killing."

"What do you mean 'no killing'? They are going to kill us."

"We are better off waiting for Peter. Whoever these people are they need us. They want that statue finished or they wouldn't have bothered with having you bring me and it here."

"Correction: they need you."

"They must still need you or they would have killed you by now."

"They know who you are, they know who I am. They'll threaten me to get you to finish the statue."

"There will be no need for threats. I'll work on the statue to buy us some time."

"Neal, right now we are under very light guard. We shouldn't rely on Peter to get us out of trouble, he needs to be a last resort."

"Murdering two men needs to be our last resort." Neal said firmly.

"Men? No, 'scum'. Neal, these people kidnapped and tortured my son."

"And they'll all be arrested, I promise you that."

"I don't want them arrested!" Daniel spat. "I want them dead!"

"So you're just going to go through the building slaughtering everyone you come across?"

"Pretty much, yes. That was my plan."

"Plan? Wait, you didn't bring the GPS tracker with you to Glass' to help rescue the artist he hired, you did it to track these men down to kill them."

"Yes."

"No." Neal insisted. "No killing."

"You act like these men's lives mean something. The world will be a better place without them."

"That's not the point."

"What is the point?"

"The point is..."

Neal stopped as he heard a key grinding in the simple lock on the door. Daniel narrowed his eyes and got to his feet. Neal scrambled to his feet as quickly as he could and put himself in front of Daniel. He could see that Daniel was preparing to launch himself at anyone who came through the door. More than worrying about Daniel killing someone Neal was also concerned that Daniel would get himself killed in the process.

"Daniel, please."

"Fine." Daniel sighed in defeat.

The man who had lead the group at the abandoned parking lot stepped into the room. He looked more bored than anything else. Neal got the distinct impression that he was just a high level hired hand. The man orchestrating this preferred to keep his hands clean. The leader looked Daniel and Neal over before making a motion for them to follow him.

"Let's go." He demanded.

Neal could see Daniel's jaw line sharpen as he ground his teeth in barely contained rage. Trying to keep the situation from escalating Neal put his hand on Daniel's chest before turning around to follow their captor. Making a noise of irritation Daniel agreed to follow peacefully. The two armed guards brought up the rear.

There was nothing in the long hallway to suggest that they were anywhere other than a random office building basement. Each door had a small tag with a number next to it. Eventually they came to a stairwell and went up three flights before stepping out into another hall. This one was well decorated with rich red carpeting. The doors had electronic card locks on them, and brass plates with number on them like a hotel.

"Fancy." Daniel noted.

"Quiet." The man hissed.

Coming to a door at the far end of the hall the man pulled out a card and slid it through the lock. A small green light on the lock let him know it was open. Pushing the door open he stepped aside to let Neal and Daniel pass through into the room. The room was a large hotel suite that had been stripped of all furniture and decorations. The door that lead to what Neal assumed was a patio had a thick piece of plywood nailed over it.

What impressed Neal the most was the fact that they had managed to get the half done statue into the room unharmed. Up against the right was was a pile of boxes that Neal assumed were filled with sculpting supplies. Sitting at the base of the statue was the box of diamonds that Glass had given him.

"Finish it." The man demanded.

"Alri..."

"Why should he?" Daniel interrupted. "You're just going to kill us when he's done."

"Death is not the worst thing that can happen to you."

The man gave his men a silent order and they approached Daniel. Neal had little doubt that Daniel could quickly bring down both men, but to his surprise Daniel made a clumsy attack and was quickly given a powerful strike to the ribs. Doubling over Daniel fell to his knees with a cry of pain.

"Daniel!" Neal rushed to put himself between the men and his fallen friend. "There's no need for further demonstration of violence, I'll work on the statue. Just leave him alone."

"Ask the men outside for anything you require."

The leader turned away and left with the others. When they were gone Daniel got right back to his feet. Neal had feared he was badly injured, he'd never seen Daniel dropped to the floor so quickly. However Daniel looked no worse for the wear.

"Why did you do that?" Neal demanded. "There was no need to bait him like that."

"It would look suspicious if we just cooperated."

"True." Neal admitted. "How are your ribs?"

"Bruised but not broken." Daniel replied as he rubbed at his side. "So, how long can you stall working on this?"

"I could spend a lifetime on the statue."

"What?"

"Leonardo da Vinci once said 'Art is never finished, only abandoned'."

"Neal...you are *such* a dork."

"Listen just because I pick up a book every once in a while..."

"You're right, I'm sorry." Daniel held his hands up in surrender. "But seriously I don't think these guys are going to wait for you to 'abandon' this."

"We shouldn't need more than a few hours after Peter gets informed that his wayward 'mutt' has been located."

"Good. I'm sure it is morning by now."

"So we only need a few hours. I'm going to get started so that they don't feel the need to come in and actually break any of your ribs."

"Sounds good. I'm going to get some sleep if you don't mind."

"I don't."

Neal was surprised when Daniel decided to sleep with his back against the door until he realized that it meant that no one would be able to come in the room without waking him. Neal briefly wondered if stealing secrets was the only thing Daniel did for the NSA. He spoke about killing the guard so casually. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts Neal went over to the boxes to find the supplies he needed.

Six hours of work later Neal was ready to start embedding the diamonds into the still soft clay. Daniel stirred and sat up to stretch the kinks out of his back. He looked up at the statue with a concerned look. Neal flashed him a sad smile.

"Neal, have you been working really fast or have I been sleeping for hours?"

"You've been sleeping for hours."

"Not good. Peter should be here by now."

"I know. I've been thinking about that. I have a theory, and I think I just figured out a way to test it."

"Oh? Do tell."

Neal put down the sculpting knife that Daniel had been sizing up. He let Daniel know that he wasn't about to let him use it as a weapon by picking it back up and tossing it into one of the open boxes. Daniel rolled his eyes. Neal went over to the door and knocked. It opened and one of the guards stepped into the doorway with a gun leveled at Neal's heart.

"What?" The guard growled.

"I need some hot tea."

"Tea?" The guard repeated doubtful.

"Yes. Hot. No sugar. No milk."

The man just stared at Neal.

"You're boss said you're to get me anything I need." Neal pointed out. "Well, I need this. Daniel, you want any?"

"Um...no."

"Just the one then." Neal informed the guard. "Thank you."

The guard hesitated for moment before nodding and closing the door. Daniel came up to Neal and looked at him expectantly. Neal just smiled brightly and said nothing. It took nearly fifteen minutes for the man to return with the tea. As Neal expected it came to him on a silver tray in a silver pot with a white china cup. Neal accepted the tray and took it over to the statue to sit down and pour a cup of the bright amber colored tea. He brought the cup up to his face and took a deep breath.

"Neal...what the hell are you doing?"

"Confirming my suspicion."

"You have a suspicion about tea?" Daniel asked doubtfully.

"Sort of."

"I've never understood you." Daniel shook his head sadly.

Neal took a sip of the flora and muskily fragrant liquid. The slightly astringent tannic tea was thin-bodied, yet amazingly flavorful. He opened the tea pot and inspected the loose leaves that were floating in the hot water. There was a large amount of long wiry tip leaves, the highest of whole leaf quality.

"Well?" Daniel asked. "How is it?"

"Amazing. It's authentic Darjeeling."

"So?"

"So you rarely see Darjeeling of this quality outside of India."

"Neal, I think I would have noticed a sixteen hour plane ride. We're not in India."

"No, but I'm willing to bet that we are at the DC India Embassy."

"That's not good."


	30. Chapter 30

White Collar : The Eye of Sita

Chapter Thirty

"Sara? How do you spell 'International Incident'?"

"N-E-A-L?"

"I was thinking 'C-A-F-F-R-E-Y'." Peter sighed. "I can't decide which one of them is worse, Neal or Daniel."

"Daniel." Sara said firmly. "Definitely Daniel."

"You had that answer right on the tip of your tongue."

"Don't get me wrong, Neal is certainly trouble."

"With a capital 'T'."

"But he's not dangerous." Sara pointed out. "Daniel's different. I only met him briefly, but I was far more afraid of him than Glass."

"He is certainly more prone to violence than Neal."

"More prone?" Sara repeated with a raised eyebrow. "He's got psycho killer written all over him. He choked you out. There was no reason for that, there were several options open to him that didn't involve crushing your larynx."

Peter reached up and rubbed at his still sore throat. The bruising peeked out over the top of his shirt collar. The assault from the backseat had been a skilled one. He had several theories as to what had made Daniel chose that particular method of making sure he wasn't followed.

"And yet...I feel better knowing that he's with Neal." Sara admitted.

"He'll certainly do everything in his power to protect him."

"How are we going to help them?"

"Excellent question."

Peter looked down at his phone and the small blinking red dot over the Indian Embassy. Putting the phone away he turned his attention back to Liam. Still sleeping Liam twitched in the throws of a nightmare. Sara got to her feet and walked over to his bed side and ran the back of her hand down his cheek a few times. Liam settled into a more peaceful sleep. Sara turned back to Peter.

"I know that the laws surrounding an Embassy are different than traditional US soil, but if we have proof that two American citizens are being held there don't we have every right to demand a search warrant? You can't just kidnap someone and drag them onto Embassy grounds and declare them 'out of the FBI's jurisdiction'."

"No, you can't." Peter agreed. "And if we had actual evidence that an American was being held against their will there then we could just waltz in and retrieve them. However, we don't have evidence, we have a blinking dot on a screen that says my dog ran away."

"Not something a judge is going to believe."

"No."

"We cou..."

Sara stopped as a doctor with silver hair came into the room. He went directly to Liam and a look of relief flashed over his distinctive features. It was not the usual medical detachment that Peter was used to seeing from the rest of the hospital staff. Feeling that something was wrong Peter got to his feet and joined Sara by Liam's bedside. The doctor looked up at Peter before forcing a smile.

"Who are you?" Peter demanded.

"Dr. Jennings, I'm taking over Liam's case. Has he woken at all?"

"No."

"I understand you're an FBI Agent? Can you give me any details about what happened?"

"No." Peter replied simply.

"Classified, eh?" The doctor smiled.

"Something like that."

"Okay," the man disconnected Liam's IV "I'm going to take him down to X-ray, make sure everyth..."

"You're not taking him anywhere." Peter growled.

"Peter?" Sara asked alarmed.

"Agent Burke, I need to make sure that his wrist is set right."

"Then I'm coming with you."

"I can't allow that."

"Then I can't allow you to take him." Peter said firmly.

When Jennings made a move to reach into his lab coat Peter reacted with blinding speed. Sara stepped back in alarm as Peter drew his weapon on the doctor. Aiming at the doctor's chest Peter made it clear that he was ready to take the man down. Looking more annoyed than frightened Jennings took his hand away from his coat.

"Agen..."

"Stop talking." Peter warned.

"This isn't what you think."

"Put you hands behind your head and take step back."

"Alright," Jennings sighed as he followed orders "you got me, I'm not a doctor and I'm armed, but I'm not a threat. I swear."

"I'll be the judge of that."

Keeping his aim Peter carefully came around to Jennings' side of the bed. Making no move to resist Jennings peacefully allowed Peter to reach into his lab coat and remove his weapon from its shoulder harness. Peter backed away from Jennings with his weapon and handed it over to Sara before going back to his captive. The gun was a standard government issue.

"We're on the same side, Agent."

"Then where's your badge?" Peter demanded.

"I don't carry one."

"What Agency are you with?"

"I can't answer that."

"You realized I already know about Daniel Caffrey, right?"

"Agent Burke, please be careful using that name. Can you put the weapon down? I think we both know you're not going to shoot me."

Peter thought about the request for a moment before putting his gun back in its holster. He held his hand out to Sara and she gave him the weapon he'd taken off of Jennings. Peter removed the clip and the bullet from the chamber before offering it back.

"Thank you, Agent."

"What happens now?" Peter asked. "I get the feeling that arresting you isn't going to work."

"No it won't." Jennnings agreeded. "What happens now is I'm taking the boy."

"No you're not."

"I really appreciate you getting Liam back safely, but your involvement ends here."

"You can understand how I can't allow you to just take him." Peter said. "My gut tells that we're on the same side, but I have no proof."

"You'll have it in a few minutes."

"How?"

Before Jennings could answer Liam began to stir. Liam caught sight of Peter first and visibly cowered as tears slipped down his cheeks. Trembling with fright he weld his eyes shut. Jennings went to step closer, but Peter wasn't ready to trust him yet and put himself between them. Jennings put his hands up peaceful and took a step back again.

"It's okay, Liam." Jennings said gently. "You're safe."

"Uncle Jack?" Liam asked nervously as he looked around.

"I'm here, Sport." Jack stepped into view and smiled. "Your Momma's on her way. Just be brave for me, okay?"

Liam bit down on his lower lip and nodded. Giving in Peter stepped out of the way and allowed Jack to walk up to the bedside. Liam scrambled up so that he could throw his arms around Jack's neck. The cast around his wrist made it difficult for him to hold on. Jack rubbed between Liam's shoulders as Liam buried his face against his chest. Peter relaxed a bit seeing that Liam truly trusted him.

It was only a few minutes before a woman with long fire red hair came bursting into the room. Her strikingly blue eyes were rimmed with red from stress and tears. When Jack turned to face her with Liam in his arms Peter was afraid that she might actually pass out from the sudden relief that washed over her.

"Liam!" She cried.

"Mommy!"

Liam wriggled out of Jack's arm and into the waiting embrace of his mother. Michelle held him tight and kissed the top of his head repeatedly. She had tears streaming down her cheeks, but she looked happier than anyone Peter had ever seen. Sara looked over at Peter with a smile with her own eyes brightened with tears from the emotional reunion. Michelle quickly composed herself and looked Jack over.

"Oh for God's sake, Jack, why are you dressed up like that?" Michelle demanded.

"I was just trying to save you some red tape."

"You're such an ass, Jack." Michelle rolled her eyes before turning to Peter. "I'm so sorry about him, Agent Burke. I can not thank you enough for bringing my son home."

"My pleasure." Peter said sincerely.

"Come on," Jack said as he put his hand on Michelle's lower back "we have to go."

"What about Neal and Daniel?"

Michelle paled visibly at hearing her husband's name. She looked to Jack and shook her head slightly. He hesitated before he nodded. Peter's stomach began to knot up when he realized that they were still going to try and deny everything.

"Don't do this." Peter said. "He's your husband, he and Neal risked everything to get Liam back and now they need our help."

"He knew the risks, I'm sure your partner did as well."

"I know where they ar..."

"No." Michelle interrupted quickly "You can't tell me where he is."

"They need our help, I'm sure your department has more foreign ties than mine. They are trapped in an..."

"We can't help you, Agent." Jack said firmly.

"I wouldn't even if I could." Michelle added defiantly.

"Why not?"

"I would rather never know what happened to Daniel than be the one to escort him back to Texas."

Before Peter could argue further Michelle turned and left. Jack stayed behind for a second as if he wanted to say something more, but he just muttered something about being sure that Daniel could take care of himself. Peter didn't bother chasing after the secretive Agents. Sara stepped closer and put her hand on Peter's shoulder.

"What was that all about?" Sara asked.

"Neal didn't give me the particulars, but he told me that he and Daniel were living similar lives and everything about those two screams 'Agent' of some description. I'm fairly certain that Daniel and those two work for the CIA or something worse."

"Worse?"

"Daniel's the type that Black Ops would literally kill for."

"What do you suppose is back in Texas?"

"A state sanctioned execution."


	31. Chapter 31

White Collar : The Eye of Sita

Chapter Thirty-one

"Daniel what are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing, Neal?"

Daniel continued to root through the boxes of art supplies that had been left for Neal. He tossed the tools that he deemed too flimsy on the ground unceremoniously. When he came across a large pallet knife he gripped the handle and gave it a few experimental swipes through the air.

"Daniel, these are not weapons."

Snapping around with terrifying speed Daniel lashed out and grabbed the front of Neal's shirt. Jerking Neal violently closer Daniel pressed the edge of the pallet knife against Neal's throat. Putting his hands on Daniel's chest Neal tried to push away, but Daniel kept his deadly grip.

"Why do you do that?" Neal hissed when Daniel didn't release him.

"Do what?"

"Pin me down. You've always felt the need to constantly prove you're stronger than I am."

"And you've always felt the need to constantly prove you're smarter than I am."

"Can we not have this argument right now?" Neal sighed.

"Fine by me."

Daniel pushed Neal away hard enough to cause him to stumble back a few steps. Neal narrowed his eyes and barely resisted the urge to point out that the shoving was exactly what he was talking about. Flipping the pallet knife over in his hand so that the blade faced down in his palm Daniel headed for the door. The grip he had on the handle with the blade pointing down would give him greater leverage to use the art tool as a deadly weapon.

"Daniel, no. Wait."

"I don't have time to argue morals with you. So we are going to do the short version: it's us or them."

"I don't believe anything is that black and white, Daniel."

"Yeah, well not all of us are lucky enough to live in your charmed little world where everything works out so perfectly so easily."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means...never mind." Daniel growled as he knocked on the door to get the guard to open it.

"Dani..."

Neal had reached his hand out and put it on Daniel's shoulder to keep him from attacking the guards when they opened the door. In no mood to be stopped Daniel whipped around and slipped one foot behind Neal's before shoving him hard in the chest. Thrown off balance and unable to take a step back Neal fell and landed hard. The hip that held the tracking device protested with a sharp lance of pain as he hit the floor. Before he could even reorient himself the men opened the door.

By the time Neal was able to get back to his feet Daniel had both guards down on the ground. There had been no time for gun fire, no time for them to even cry out. Daniel had lashed out at one man with the pallet knife, it was still embedded in his throat. The other looked like his neck had been snapped. Daniel grabbed both of the dead men by the collars of their shirts and dragged them into the room.

"What did you do?" Neal asked in horror.

"What I had to."

Daniel made it clear that he was not interested in an argument with a deadly glare. Neal sighed and backed off. Daniel turned his attention back to the men he'd taken down and searched them for weapons. Each man had a 9mm Beretta, Daniel took one and stood up to offer the other one to Neal. Neal refused the weapon and took a step back.

"Take it." Daniel held out the gun.

"No."

"Neal..."

"I don't need a gun, Daniel."

"You know, Neal, you think you keep your hands clean but you have always carried a gun." Daniel hissed angrily.

"What?"

"Me, Keller, Wilkes, Peter...you always keep a partner close to use lethal force for you so you don't have to. For crying out loud, even Sara has a gun!"

"It's never loaded."

"Cowboy up, Neal!" Daniel demanded as he reverted to his thick Texas drawl. "And protect yourself for once!"

Daniel pressed the gun against Neal's chest forcibly. Fearing Daniel more than the weapon Neal agreed to take it. He quickly checked the chamber to make sure it was loaded. The round in the chamber had a strange blue color to it, but he didn't think anything of it. Daniel took the lead and looked out into the hall before motioning for Neal to follow him.

"How did you know Sara has a gun?" Neal asked as they made their way through the empty hallway.

"It's registered."

"You do background checks on all my girlfriends?" Neal demanded with irritation.

"Pretty much." Daniel shrugged. "I never did like Kate by the way."

"You weren't the one who..."

"No. I had nothing to do with Kate's death, if I was going to kill her I wouldn't have done it in front of you."

"Thanks...I think." Neal said uncomfortably. "Still, you know way too much about my life, Daniel. It's a little creepy, actually it's a lot creepy."

"Michelle says you're an obsession of mine." Daniel chuckled.

"She's not wrong." Neal agreed.

"She's none too fond of you."

"Imagine that."

Daniel and Neal came to the stairwell door. Looking through the small glass window Daniel ensured that no one was waiting to stop them on the far side. With the stair well clear he pushed the door open. There were several stories above them, and two down before the stairs lead into the basement. When they got to the ground level they reached an emergency exit.

"This has been too easy." Daniel complained.

"We weren't very well guarded." Neal agreed.

"I don't like it. They may not have expected you to try and over power the guards, but they certainly know I'm capable."

"We're not out yet."

"True, and maybe we're just looking a gift horse in the mouth...whatever that means."

"You tell a horse's age by his teeth."

"What?"

"You determine what a horse is worth by looking in his mouth and seeing how good his teeth are. When you get a horse as a gift it's rude to check its worth."

"This is exactly the sort of thing I was talking about before." Daniel sighed.

"Just move out of my way so I can disable the alarm."

Neal tucked the Beretta into the back of his waistband as he inspected the mechanism on the emergency exit. Pushing the door open would set off the fire alarm, however it was not designed to resist tampering. In fact with a little inspection Neal found the hidden switch that turned the alarm off for maintenance. Neal opened the door cautiously and looked out. It was late afternoon and the sun was filtering down through the trees on the Indian influenced garden that surrounded the Embassy.

"Okay, all clear." Neal announced. "We're good to go."

"Correction: you're good to go."

"Daniel, this is an Embassy you can't go exacting your revenge here. You've already laid the ground work for an international incident by murdering those two guards."

"I'm not going for revenge. I'm going for the Hope."

"You think the Hope is here?"

"I can't imagine anywhere else it would be. Neal, I'm not welcome home if I don't have that stone. If I can bring the Hope Diamond back to the NSA I might just be able to get their forgiveness. If I leave now I'll just be hunted down and shot."

"Okay," Neal nodded "then let's go find the Hope."

"You can't come with me. You need to get back to Peter."

"I'm not leaving you here."

"Nea..."

"No arguing, if you're going after the Hope I'm coming with you." Neal said firmly.

"You just want a chance to touch it." Daniel smiled. "Remember how we used to fantasize different ways to steal it? We came up with some crazy schemes. I wonder why Caffrey never let us go to DC to see it."

"How did you get it?"

"It was much easier to get in New York while the setting was being changed, they didn't have half the security that the Smithsonian has. The actual theft was a little anti-climatic, a straight forward robbery. It helped that the safe it was in was one that base off one of Caffrey's designs."

"Is it as amazing to hold in your hand as we as we always dreamed?" Neal asked with a bright glitter in his eyes.

"Words can't describe the feeling."

"If it is here we need to steal it back."

"Can you resist the temptation to keep it?" Daniel teased. "Can you really hold one of the world's most amazing diamonds in your palm and just let it go?"

"Let's find out."

"Hundred bucks says you physically drool when you see it."

"Did you?"

"Yes I did."


	32. Chapter 32

Note: Sorry about the wait. I've been ill again. Uh...long chapter is LONG!

* * *

><p>White Collar : The Eye of Sita<p>

Chapter Thirty-two

"If you were hiding the Hope Diamond, where would you put it?"

"I'd swallow it." Daniel replied without hesitation.

"Disgusting."

"No, 'smart'. Think about it. It's too large to pass through the stomach into the intestines, the acid wouldn't hurt the diamond, you could just retch it back up later."

"Please, please tell me you didn't do that when you stole it."

"Of course not, I just put it in my pocket."

"Oh thank God." Neal sighed in relief.

"What?"

"The Hope Diamond is a wonder of nature and a National Treasure it doesn't deserved to be humiliated by being ingested, particularly not by they likes of you."

"You do realize you're anthropomorphizing a shiny rock, right?"

"'Anthropomorphizing'?" Neal repeated with a raised eye brow. "That's an awful big word for a simple Texas boy."

"Need I remind you that you were born not twenty miles from me?"

"Just because a cat has her kittens in the oven doesn't mean you call them biscuits." Neal chuckled in his original Texas drawl. "You said it yourself: I was born in the wrong place."

"You're impossible to talk to anymore, Neal."

"We never talked, Daniel, we only schemed."

"True." Daniel smiled. "I wish we'd had a chance to try pulling off some the bigger jobs together."

"Hey, you were the one who went off and stole the Hope without me."

"Jealous?"

"Insanely." Neal admitted. "Although I have to ask, why did you give me the black diamond? Do you really think my sins will always outweigh any good I can do?"

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Sixteen small white stones for my good deeds, but nothing compared with the large black stone for leaving you to die."

"I don't even know how to respond to this." Daniel said seriously. "Did you crack your head when you hit the floor or something?"

"What? No. Remember? The Tibetan belief that when you die your deeds are weighed out on a scale in stones, the black stones are for evil deeds, the white stones are for your good deeds."

Daniel stopped moving down the seemingly abandoned basement hallway to turn and stare at Neal. He brought his hand up and moved it back and forth in front of Neal's face in a silent request that he prove that he could track with his eyes.

"I don't have a concussion." Neal said as he batted Daniel's hand away.

"Then what is wrong with you? Tibetan rocks?"

"The black diamond wasn't a message?"

"Of course it was a message, but nothing about good and evil. Neal, remember when I turned sixteen and Caffrey sent me alone to New York?"

"Of course."

"Remember why?"

"To steal...I don't remember what you were suppose to steal." Neal admitted. "I just remember him being disappointed when you didn't bring it back."

"It was that diamond, 'The Eye of Shiva'. I spent a week in jail before he sent someone to bail me out."

"I don't remember that part."

"I was embarrassed about being caught, I begged him not to tell you." Daniel replied. "When I stole the Hope the Shiva was in the same safe. I took it on a whim. I used the paintings to draw you into DC to get the Hope back, but by the time you arrived my son was still missing. I knew I was going to need your help, I gave you that diamond so that you could have some time to adjust to the idea that I was alive. I knew you'd know it was me."

"I guess I did, but for all the wrong reasons."

"Caffrey sent me on a lot of missions that involved gem stones, but that job was too big for me back then. I don't know how he got the charges dropped."

"He erased my past forever, he certainly had the power to get some juvenile breaking and entering charges dropped."

"Why didn't you go back to your birth name? Why keep 'Caffrey'?"

"It was gone. Getting a truly bullet proof identity like the 'Caffery' one he gave me isn't easy."

"Sure it is, you just need a birth certificate from a child that died at bir...oh, probably not a line you're willing to cross, eh?"

"I'm not interested in even getting near that line." Neal said seriously.

"For a professional liar you have an odd set of morals."

"So do you. Killing those men with your bare ha..."

"We're wasting time." Daniel interrupted gruffly. "We need to keep moving."

Neal wanted to talk further about the subject, but Daniel had a point. They had a lot of ground to cover and probably not a whole lot of time to cover it. So far it had been easy to avoid being spotted by any of the Embassy workers. Whenever they heard someone coming they just ducked into one of the many storage rooms or slipped down a different hallway. It didn't make sense that everyone at the Embassy was part of the illegal activities, and they didn't appear to be physically hunted by anyone at the moment. So remaining hidden wasn't a problem.

They were looking for the Embassy's vault thinking that it would be the most logical place to keep the Hope. The Embassy was large and the basement took up two full underground levels. Searching for the vault room in a systematic pattern they had almost swept the entire lowest basement level. An hour or so of walking had aggravated Neal's already sore hip. Daniel noticed Neal's progressively noticeable limp and stopped. He reached out and gentle ran his hand down Neal's pant leg and found the black fabric sticky with fresh blood.

"You're still bleeding." Daniel noted needlessly.

"And whose fault is that?"

"I said I was sorry. I can try and use a lock pick to get the tracker out."

"No, you'll just make it worse. I'll be fine."

"If we can just find that damn vault we can get out of here."

"It might be on the main floor." Neal suggested. "Like a hotel it could be behind the front desk area."

"We'll have to wait until late night to sneak around behind the front desk. There will be a lot of people there and we both look lik..."

Daniel stopped midsentance when a door about twenty feet down the hallway suddenly opened. When the leader of the men who had kidnapped Liam and brought them here stepped out Daniel rushed at him blindly. The professional violent criminal did not appear to notice the impending attack until Daniel was almost on him. He cried out in shock when he turned and saw Daniel bearing down on him.

"Daniel, gun!" Neal cried out an alarm as the leader went to draw his weapon.

Still six feet from his target Daniel wasn't quick enough to get to him before he had his weapon drawn. The leader attempted to fire, but nothing happened other than the sound of a jammed chamber. The man didn't have time to change his tactics as Daniel reached him and threw his fist against the bridge of his nose. Dropping the gun he stumbled back a few steps as blood poured from his nose.

"Wait!" The man cried as he held his hands up in surrender. "Please!"

"Daniel, stop!"

Daniel lashed out and grabbed the man's raised hand and effortlessly snapped his wrist. The man gasped sharply to cry out in pain, but before he could scream Daniel brought his knee up into his gut. Doubled over breathlessly the man was helpless when Daniel grabbed his hair and jerked his head back. Using a similar trick that he'd used to knock Neal to the floor Daniel landed the man on his back. Daniel was right there with him, straddling the fallen man he struck him again. Neal could hear the sickening crunch of bone as the power behind Daniel's strike forced the broken nasal bones into his victim's brain. The man arched in a violent convulsion before relaxing in death.

Panting heavily Daniel bowed his head as he sat on his dead victim. Everything had happened so quickly that even at a run Neal had only just reached the gory scene. Trying not to look at the blood Neal grabbed Daniel's shoulder to get his attention. Daniel looked up at Neal with a weary expression.

"Don't even start with me, Neal." Daniel sighed. "I did what I had to."

"What you had to? By what...trying to get yourself killed?" Neal spat. "What the hell were you thinking rushing a man with a gun?"

"I was expecting you to have my back!" Daniel roared angrily. "You have a gun, a little suppressive fire would have been nice!"

"I didn't even have time to react, you just charged off like a junk yard dog and beat an unarmed man to death!"

"Fuck you, Gandhi!"

Neal took a breath to respond, but stopped when Daniel suddenly pitched forward and began dry heaving. His anger instantly turned to concern as Daniel struggled to get his stomach under control. When Neal put his hand on his shoulder Daniel jerked away from him. Daniel forced himself to his feet and took a few steps before he stopped and pressed his hand against his chest. He leaned against the wall for support. Grinding his teeth in obvious pain Daniel's breathing was becoming increasingly shallow.

"Daniel?" Are you alright?"

"Fine." Daniel gasped unconvincingly.

"You look like you're having a heart attack."

"No. No. It will pass."

Whatever was happening to Daniel it didn't look like it was passing, it looked like it was getting worse. Neal stayed close with his hand gently resting on Daniel's lower back in a desperate attempt to provide some sort of comfort. Daniel forced a smile and reached out to brush Neal's cheek affectionately. The contact allowed Neal to feel that Daniel's hand was trembling.

"What's happening?"

"Nothing. I...I just, I don't have my medication."

"What kind of medication?"

"I don't actually know what it is, I just know it takes the edge off."

"Edge off of what?"

"My panic attacks." Daniel admitted.

"This is a panic attack?"

"I don't enjoy killing, Neal, it's just what I'm trained to do."

"So you don't just steal secrets."

"It's a dirty job, Neal, but someone's gotta do it."

"No, I don't believe that."

"Neal, you and Peter spend your time going after bad guys, Michelle and I spend our time going after evil guys. There is a huge difference. The law isn't always enough."

"Peter often talks to me about the difference between justice and revenge, what I just witnessed was revenge."

"Absolutely. That..." Daniel gestured towards the dead man "that was personal and I don' t care what you think of me for doing it. I just want you to understand that I'm not usually a mindless killer."

"What are you usually?"

"A proud defender of this country."

"You really do want to go back, don't you? You told me that the NSA treats you like a slave, but you didn't mean that. You enjoy working for them."

"The same way you enjoy your work for the FBI, they're both 'give and take' relationships." Daniel nodded. "We're not hopeless cases Neal, we were raised to be worthless thieves, but we've both become so much more. I'm proud of you Neal, even if you don't think the same of me."

Neal glanced at the man Daniel had murdered and suddenly felt no pity for the dead kidnapper. Daniel had certainly been wrong in killing the man, but at the same time the man would hadn't hesitated to draw his gun on them. Neal wondered if on some level this was how Peter felt when he was forced to reconcile the fact that despite trying to do the right thing Neal still had strong criminal tendencies. Neal often tried to pretend that he was completely innocent, but a billion dollars worth of hidden Nazi treasure proved other wise. Daniel's panic attack had calmed, but he was still watching Neal somewhat fearfully.

"Of course I'm proud of you Daniel, if nothing else you're a devoted and loving father."

"Okay, no more bickering, no more talks about morals. Let's just go get the Hope and our lives back."

"Agreed."

Daniel smiled brightly, he threw his arm over Neal's shoulders and dragged him into a powerful hug before releasing him. Acting as though the moment of weakness with the panic attack had never happened Daniel turned on the dead man and dragged his body back into the room he'd come out of. The room was a small rec room, a porno was still playing on the flat screen tv on the far wall. Daniel went through the man's pockets and pulled out a key card that held two different magnetic strips on it.

"What do you make of that?" Daniel asked as he tossed the key to Neal.

"Penthouse key." Neal said as he looked at the card. "One side is for the elevator, the other is for the room door."

"Let's go."

"You're just going to leave him here? What if someone finds him?"

"He was watching a porn, I'm fairly certain he gave orders not to be disturbed."

Neal glanced distastefully at the video that was playing in the background. Daniel chuckled and headed for the door. Getting to the elevator was going to be the hardest part. The main floor was busy with the everyday workings of the Embassy and surprisingly crowded. Luckily the front lobby was beautifully decorated with a variety of statues and potted plants. Daniel and Neal pressed against the wall behind a plant as they planned their route to the elevator.

"What does this remind you of?" Daniel chuckled.

"I'm trying my hardest not to think about it."

"Oh come on, it was a fun game."

"What did you call it?"

"Covert streaking." Daniel smiled.

"That's right." Neal shook his head sadly.

"It was good training. If you could move across a public area naked without being spotted it made it so much easier when you actually had clothing and didn't draw instant attention to yourself if spotted. It was fun."

"Except for the times when we got caught."

"You got caught, twice if I recall correctly." Daniel pointed out. "I never did."

"Yes you did, you got spotted six times."

"I got spotted, but not caught." Daniel laughed. "Although I recall both times you got caught you were being chased by attractive lady cops...you came home late both times but you never had any charges pressed. How did you pull that off I wonder?"

"I paid for my crimes." Neal replied with a mischievous smile.

"I bet. Are you ready for this?"

"As long as we don't have to strip down first."

"Maybe next time."

Daniel looked for his opportunity and dashed out of hiding first and found a good place behind a statue. To keep out of each others way Neal allowed Daniel to get half way to the elevator before following after him. Watching Daniel Neal could tell he was having fun. It was a skill to move through a public area and there was a certain thrill to remaining unspotted. It was important to make sure that you were in cover from all angles and the longer you stood still the greater the chance of getting caught. It was game where you had to think on your feet.

Neal had to admit as he slunk into his first hiding spot and pressed his back against the alcove wall his heart rate was elevated with the thrill. When they were both in a good position Daniel gave Neal the signal and he stepped calmly out of cover to open the special penthouse elevator with the key card. The doors slide open and Daniel joined Neal in the elevator just before the doors closed again.

"That was fun." Daniel smiled.

"We are good at what we do."

"We're the best."

The elevator opened on the penthouse level. Rather than there only being one large suite there were four of them, one of them on each corner of the building with a hallway separating each of them so no one had to share a wall. They found the right room on the second try and stepped inside. The suite was beautiful, full of original art from India and rich colors.

"Something tells me the scum bag downstairs wasn't actually staying here." Daniel said. "Whoever is behind all of this must be owner."

"Let's not bother with sticking around long enough to find out. If we can just get the Hope we can ruin their deal."

"You know this whole India Embassy points to Glass."

"Perhaps as a middle man." Neal agreed. "But I think the main man behind the strings knows us better than that."

"We are going to have to figure out who that is before this is done or neither of us will ever be safe."

"Diamond first."

"Right. There must be a safe around here somewhere."

"This way."

Neal went directly to the painting on the wall that shared a wall with the bathroom behind. In wall safes in hotels tended to be against the wall that had the ceramic tile and plumbing behind it. That way if someone tried to cut in through the back they needed to deal with the water as well. Swinging the painting away from the wall revealed a small safe.

"I will be really disappointed if the Hope is in this thing." Daniel said. "A child could open this safe."

"It isn't the safe itself that would keep the diamond secure, it's the fact that it's on the top floor of a foreign Embassy."

"True. Would you like to do the honors or shall I?"

"You got to steal it the first time." Neal said quickly. "It's my turn."

Daniel smiled and gave Neal a shallow bow before giving him some space. Neal reached out and spun the dial on the safe to get a feel for it. Neal decided that the safe was probably older than he was, at least as old as the building. He wouldn't even have to listen to this one, he would be able to just feel it. Closing his eyes Neal held his breath and started slowly spinning the dial with a delicate touch, waiting for the distinctive feel of the tumbler.

It had been a while since Neal had tested his hand out on such a traditional safe. It took him three tries before he was able to get the combination correct. With his heart pounding against his ribs Neal pulled on the lever that opened the small black safe. Peering inside he found a medium velvet black jewelry box sitting alone in the safe. Reaching inside he opened the hinged box.

Neal's breath caught in his throat as he stared at the naked Hope Diamond sitting on a bed of white velvet. The deep blue hue sparkled and twinkled with rest of the colors of the rainbow as the light danced inside the cut facets. Gently reaching out Neal took the diamond in his hand. Unlike other gems the diamond felt cold, with a high capacity to conduct heat the stone was physically robbing his fingers of warmth. Diamonds earned the nickname 'ice' through physics but at the moment it felt more like magic. Transfixed by the crystalized history in his hand Neal was nearly paralyzed.

"Neal?"

"...yeah?" Neal replied vacantly.

"You're drooling, pay up."

Neal chuckled and licked his lips. Before he could inform Daniel that he didn't have a hundred dollars on him at the moment there was the sound of a key card being swiped in the lock on the main door. It was Neal's instinct to look for a hiding place. Daniel however had other plans and drew the gun he'd stolen from the guards out and take aim. As Daniel moved to door Neal closed the safe and put the painting back in place.

Completely focused on the door Daniel managed to get his back against the wall next to the door before it opened. When their guest stepped inside he seemed to instantly sense that there was a gun drawn on him. Neal was surprised to see that it was Glass who had entered. If Daniel was surprised he didn't show it. With the gun aimed at Glass' temple he made a motion with the weapon that instructed him to step into the room. Daniel glanced into the hall before closing the door.

"Damn it, Boys, what are you doing here?" Glass huffed. "I gave you every opportunity to escape."

"Glass." Daniel snarled.

"Daniel." Glass greeted before he turned his attention to Neal. "Neal, I thought you of all people would be able to talk him into just walking away."

"You knew us from the moment we stepped into your house." Neal accused.

"Of course." Glass admitted freely.

"Who are you?" Daniel barked. "How do you know us?"

"I can understand Neal not remembering me, he never saw my face even though I was there that night he first met Caffrey. However, Daniel, I'm a little surprised that you don't remember me. Of course you were fairly upset the last time we were face to face, having been abandoned in a New York jail and all."

Daniel lowered his weapon slightly at hearing the intimate detail about his past. Glass didn't seem to fear the weapon or the dangerous man holding it. He didn't put his hands up the way most people did when threatened with a gun. Glass remained completely relaxed, he even look at Neal and smiled.

"You two really have grown up. It has been fun to watch. But you weren't as good as you thought you were when you were kids."

"How do you know anything about that?" Daniel asked. "No one knew we lived with Caffrey, he made certain that we were neither seen nor heard on the rare occasions that he had guests. Neal and I were ghosts."

"Not true. You didn't really think that Caffrey cleaned up all your messes on his own did you?" Glass chuckled. "Speeding tickets, petty theft charges, public intoxication, evidence left behind, getting caught on security cameras, not to mention all the details that go along with keeping two young orphans out of the system. I had to deal with a lot of your little transgressions to keep you two out of juvenile hall while you honed your skills."

"You were the one who held the gun to my head when I first threatened Caffery that night under the highway." Neal guessed.

"That's right." Glass nodded. "That wasn't part of my usual duties, but I made an exception that night. I had a good thing going until you two little ingrates killed my employer and forced me into a new line of work."

"What exactly was your first line of work?"

"I was your lawyer." 


	33. Chapter 33

NOTE: This story has gotten a LOT longer than I ever planned. However I figured I can't just end this story easily, might as well do it 'right'. Even if it causes me to get carpal tunnel...

* * *

><p>White Collar: The Eye of Sita<p>

Chapter Thirty three

"Burke, you want my advice?"

"No."

"Go home." Walters said simply.

"What?"

"Just go back to New York and let the Marshals worry about this. Caffrey's not worth risking your career and possible jail time over."

"How would you know what Neal's worth?" Peter snarled.

"You can't help him, you need to accept that. If Caffrey is going to get out of this he'll have to do it on his own. Even if he does you think he'll just wander back to come back to 'work' for you? No way. He's off his leash, he's gone."

"You think Neal and Daniel planed this from the beginning."

"Yes I do." Walters admitted freely.

"Walters..."

"You know that the evidence that brought you and Caffrey down to DC in the first place was recently destroyed, right?"

"Destroyed?"

"By Daniel Caffrey himself. We have him on surveillance conning our evidence room receptionist into handing them over. The paintings, or what was left of them, were found in the janitor's closet soaking in a powerful solvent."

"He's very protective of Neal." Peter explained.

"Then you'll love this, because it is the best part." Walters hissed as he leaned slightly forward. "Daniel is the one who gave it to me in the first place."

"He did?" Peter asked in surprise.

"I didn't have any idea who he really was at the time. He had some sort of makeup covering up that scar of his, but it was him. Called himself Agent Allens, had a badge and everything."

"Walters..."

"Face the facts, Burke, the Caffrey brothers won. Divide and conquer. One of them conned me while the other got you. Now they have a 250 million dollar rock, and a perfect 'kidnapped by Indians' alibi in case they do get caught later."

"I don't believe that."

"Which is what made you such an easy mark."

"Walters, put your prejudice against Neal aside for a second, please. I need your help, you must have DC contacts with friends in the Embassy."

"No. We're done, Burke." Walters leaned back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest. "I helped you out before because there was a kid's life at stake. No more."

"Either way finding Neal is the best way to find the Hope Diamond."

"Get out of my office."

Peter stayed seated for a minute while he decided if Walters was worth arguing with any further. Coming to the conclusion that Walters was too much like talking to a brick wall Peter got up and left. Sara had been waiting in the front office pit area and she quickly got to her feet when she saw Peter coming. The look on his face told her everything she needed to know about the short meeting with Agent Walters.

"He's not going to help us." Peter announced unnecessarily.

"Can you blame him?"

"Sara?"

"Think about it, Peter, you're like his arch nemesis."

"Nemesis? I'm not anyone's nemesis."

"By definition you are. Walters is probably secretly thrilled that you've lost Neal and the Hope Diamond along with him."

"He didn't make much of a secret about it."

"So what do we do?"

"About the only thing we can do is go to the Embassy and ask permission to search the premises."

"You think that will work?"

"Not really." Peter admitted. "Legally it is our only option. Anyone is allowed to walk up to the front desk, but it takes permission to get any further."

"And if the Ambassador is part of this?"

"Then I'm guessing he'll say 'no'." Peter shrugged.

"And to think that Neal accuses you of having no sense of humor." Sara smiled sadly.

"He does?"

"Yeah."

"He has a point."

Sara chuckled. Peter's phone suddenly beeped at him letting him know he had a text message. Sara watched as Peter furrowed his brow while reading the message. He didn't share the message right away. He typed something into the phone, but Sara could hear it make the noise that notified Peter that the reply failed to go through.

"Peter? Who is it?"

"I don't know, blocked number. It says 'Go home'."

"That's a little scary."

"It's Daniel's wife, or her partner 'Jack'. They don't want me looking into Neal or Daniel."

"You're not going to listen to them are you?"

"No more than I'm going to listen to Walters." Peter said firmly. "Let's go, we need to stop at the hotel before we visit the Embassy."

"What do you need at the hotel?"

"Mostly a shower. I've found in the past that people don't tend to take you seriously as an Agent if you look and smell like you spent the night sleeping on a park bench."

"I would not say 'no' to a change of clothes."

Since there were two showers at Peter's suite they made a quick stop at Sara's hotel so that she could grab fresh clothes before heading to his hotel. Opening the door with the magnetic key card Peter stepped into the room. Sara bumped into Peter when he quickly backed out of the room again. He pushed her gently to the side and put his hand up to silent request that she stay out in the hallway.

Sara stayed quiet as Peter drew his weapon and more cautiously stepped back into the spacious hotel room. With her curiosity outweighing her fear Sara peeked around the door frame. Peter was systematically sweeping the five separate rooms that made up the suite. He caught sight of her watching and repeated his silent request that she stay where she was. After stepping out on the patio for a moment he returned with his gun holstered once more.

"It's clear." Peter announced.

"Feeling a little jumpy are we?"

"Someone was here." Peter pointed to a yellow manila envelope sitting on the coffee table.

Peter stepped up to the coffee table and picked up the envelope. Reaching inside he pulled out a handful of papers. He looked the first one over and handed it to Sara. Taking the paper Sara looked at the small picture of a distinguished man of Indian decent in the corner. Glancing at the text she found that it was a full bio of the man in the photo. Peter handed her several similar sheets, all of the men were high powered diplomats, ambassadors, or emissaries for the Embassy.

"Some sort of intel packet?" Sara guessed.

"That's certainly what it looks like. A suspect list for a buyer for the Hope Diamond no doubt."

Peter handed over the last of the profiles, there were six of them in total, along with pages that held detailed plans of the Embassy layout, security measures, and staff number. Reaching back inside the envelope Peter pulled out two off white cards a little large than a standard index card. Peter got the same look on his face that he had when he was reading the threatening text. Sara waited, but Peter was lost in thought as he reread the cards.

"What's that?"

"Apparently the Embassy of India is throwing a little soirée tonight," Peter replied as he held up the two small cards to show of the embossed gold lettering "and we're both invited." 


	34. Chapter 34

Note: I'm so sorry for the long wait! Damn the real world getting in my way.

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><p>White Collar: The Eye of Sita<p>

Chapter Thirty Four

"What's wrong, Robert?"

"My dog won't hunt, Harold." Caffrey sighed.

"I told you that ya can't just take some orphan off the street and turn him into a world class thief."

"Daniel has all the skills, he's just missing the drive."

"Of course he is. Look around you, he has everything he needs, worse yet everything he wants. Why steal when you live in the lap of luxury?"

"I've never wanted for anything in my life, but it never kept me from seeking the thrill of the con. I've failed with Daniel. I need to start again."

"Start again?"

"I need another protege."

"No, absolutely not. As your lawy..."

"Harold, I don't want to hear it."

"Robert, it was dangerous enough the first time to take in Daniel. Finding another one..."

"I've already found him. He's perfect, a graffiti artist that goes by the tag 'Texas Anonymous'. He just entered the foster system, he's too old to find a permeant adoptive family. Once he hits eighteen he'll be alone in this world with nothing and he knows it."

"How old is he now?"

"Twelve."

"Christ, Caffrey, this kid is almost a teenager already? What makes you think he'll be any easier to deal with than Daniel?"

"He has something Daniel's never had: raw talent. Plus...I...I won't make the same mistake with Neal that I made with Daniel."

"What mistake is that?"

"Nothing, don't worry about it. Just do whatever it is you need to do to make this happen. I want him."

"And if this new kid doesn't want to have anything to do with you?"

"He will."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I won't treat this one like a possession or a project. I'll treat this one like a son..."

Neal stared at Glass, unsure of what to think about the story he'd just recounted to them about how Neal came to live with Caffery. Daniel looked liked he was about to pull the trigger of the gun he still had aiming at Glass' head out of sheer rage. If Glass was afraid of Daniel he didn't show it. He kept his eyes on Neal and smiled.

"Of course it wasn't until later that I learned your mother was still alive." Glass continued. "That was the hardest part with you, paying off your mother to push you away. I felt awful about that. Have you ever talked to her again? I doubt it, not after what she said to you the last time. That little bit of acting cost Caffery nearl..."

Neal jolted in surprise as Daniel fired twice in quick succession. The gun had made the characteristic sharp cracking noise, however there was no damage. With practiced ease Daniel released the clip and stared at the blue rounds. Neal suddenly realized what the blue on the rounds was: the guns they stole held nothing more than blanks. Not having even flinched Glass looked over at Daniel.

"You're right, I shouldn't be telling Neal what his life was worth to his mother." Glass nodded.

Dropping the worthless gun Daniel bared his teeth at Glass like a wild animal before he launched himself at him to kill him with his bear hands. However being a genuine Texas man Glass was more than prepared and drew a large revolver from the holster hidden under his well tailored jacket with blinding speed. For a second Neal feared that Daniel wasn't going to stop, and if Glass had continued to aim at him he probably wouldn't have. However when Glass changed his aim to Neal's heart Daniel froze in place and backed down.

"Good boy, Daniel." Glass praised. "I was always fascinated by how quickly you took Neal under your wing. So protective of him. Did you ever try to turn him away from a life of crime? I bet you did, I also bet he didn't listen."

"Glass," Neal interrupted before Daniel could lose his temper again "I'm guessing you switched the ammo in the guards' guns because you didn't want either of us hurt."

"That's right. I never meant for anyone to get hurt."

"What about my son?" Daniel spat venomously.

"If you hadn't killed Garret for breaking Liam's wrist I would have had him killed when this was done. I gave him explicit instructions to be gentle."

"There is no such things as a gentle kidnapping. How cou..."

"Daniel, please." Neal interrupted again. "Glass, you said you wanted us to escape, so just let us go now. We all know that your lawyers would rip apart anything Daniel or I tried to say in court against you. We have nothing on you. We can all just walk away from this."

"Except for the fact that Daniel seems like the type to hold a grudge." Glass pointed out. "And of course you have my diamond in your pocket."

"I set all of the diamonds into the statue." Neal said trying to sound innocent.

"Neal, don't treat me like an idiot. I know you got into the safe. I can see it in your eyes that you were holding the Hope." Glass said casually. "In another life I would ask you both to work for me, but Daniel has a family and even though you're off your anklet I know you're not leaving Burke anytime soon."

"So where do we go from here?" Neal asked seriously.

"I really don't want to kill you two." Glass said seriously. "But I don't want to have to watch my back for the rest of my life either."

"I'm the only one you have to worry about." Daniel said firmly. "Let Neal go. We both know he's not a threat to your life like I am. You don't have to kill us both, just me."

"I don't want your blood on my hands Daniel, no more than it already is." Glass sighed. "Please believe me when I say that I didn't learn until much too late that Caffrey was a pedophile, I am truly sorry about that. If I had known, please forgiv..."

"Fuck you. Don't waste your breath asking for forgiveness. You bought and sold me like a common dog. You destroyed Neal's relationship with his mother when he needed it most. And after all of that you couldn't just leave us alone, you had to fuck up our lives one last time."

"I was only helping you achieve your destiny."

"Destiny?" Daniel huffed.

"Caffrey raised you specifically to steal the Hope Diamond."

"What?" Neal asked in surprise.

"Caffrey knew it was too risky to try and steal the stone himself, but he wanted to see if he could do it through a proxy. If you brought it back, wonderful. If you got caught, it would only take a phone call to erase you're connection to him. The perfect crime. In fact he almost erased you when you got caught in New York. He only brought you back because he knew Neal would miss you."

"I've had enough of this bullshit." Daniel growled. "I would rather be shot than listen to one more word about Caffrey."

"Daniel." Neal said sternly. "You're not helping the situation."

"No, he's right." Glass nodded. "Talking about the past is not going to help. Here is what's going to happen. I'm going to call my trusted men in here to make sure you two are on your best behavior for the rest of the night. Neal, you're going to embed the Hope Diamond into the Sita statue, deep under the clay over her heart..."

"That's how you're going to smuggle the Hope to India, you're giving the statue to someone in the Embassy as a gift."

"That's right." Glass nodded. "While you're doing that I'll have someone bring you two something more appropriate to wear."

"Excuse me?" Neal asked confused.

"I'm throwing a party tonight, black tie."

"And you want us there?" Daniel raised his scared eyebrow in disbelief.

"Of course." Glass smiled genuinely. "What kind of host would I be if I didn't invite the men who made all this possible?"

"And afterward?" Neal asked nervously.

"You're both free to go."

"Just like that?" Daniel asked suspiciously. "You'll just let us walk out."

"What choice do I have?"

"You could have us killed." Daniel offered helpfully.

"No, I couldn't kill you anymore than I could murder my own flesh and blood."

"Why not?"

"I'm a criminal, not a monster. You two should understand that better than most."


	35. Chapter 35

Note: I meant to get to the party proper in this chapter...but then I got distracted by giving Daniel and little more background.

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><p>White Collar: The Eye of Sita<p>

Chapter Thirty Five

Seventeen years old Daniel was woken by the sound of the door to his room slowly opening. He couldn't even remember a time when he wasn't easily woken by even the slightest sound. Daniel's blood froze as he prayed that for once it was Neal who was invading his space in the middle of the night. It never was, and the way the figure in the doorway stumbled drunkenly Daniel knew it was Caffrey. He had started drinking more and more lately. He always waited until everyone had gone to bed before hitting the scotch, but when he did he hit it hard.

Daniel tried to pretend to still be sleeping when Caffrey sat down on the edge of the bed and ran his hand through Daniel's blonde hair. Irritated by being ignored Caffrey tangled his fingers in Daniel's hair and jerked his head up. Gasping as though just woken Daniel stared up at his tormentor. Dismissing the fear in Daniel's eyes Caffrey leaned in with his breath reeking of top shelf liquor.

Trying to dissuade the inebriated Caffrey from an intimate encounter Daniel put his palm on Caffrey's chest to keep him at a distance. These days he had the physical power to spurn Caffrey's advances and often times if he just struggled long enough Caffrey would fall asleep in his drunken stupor. Tonight instead of treating Daniel's resistance as a playful game Caffrey simply released his hold on Daniel's hair and got off the bed. Daniel sat up and furrowed his brow as Caffrey headed towards the door.

"You're leaving?" Daniel asked confused.

"You don't seem very into this tonight, perhaps you're getting too old. I'm going to go see what Neal is doing."

"No, wait. I'm sorry." Daniel panicked. "Neal's sleeping for the first time in days, he's been obsessed with that water lilly painting ever since we got back from Paris. I just got him to take a break a few hours ago. Stay, please."

Caffrey turned back to look at Daniel with a raised eyebrow.

"Come back, I'll do better." Daniel promised. "Please just leave Neal alone tonight."

"Can you make it worth my while?"

"You know I can..."

Back in the present Daniel growled in frustration as he tried to fix the bow tie that went along with the elegantly cut tuxedo he was being forced to wear. He glanced over at Neal who was putting the finishing touches on his own tux. Neal looked born to wear the fancy attire whereas Daniel felt like he was trying on someone else's skin. Tucking a stray black lock of hair behind his ear Neal looked over at Daniel struggling with the tie and shook his head sadly.

"I can't believe after all these years you still haven't learned how to tie a bow tie properly."

"I didn't even wear a tux to my wedding." Daniel said defensively as he undid the sloppy tie and started to try again.

"Here, I'll do it." Neal offered.

"Why are we even bothering with all of this? You and I both know that Glass isn't just going to let us walk out of here tonight."

"I'm not so sure about that, I think he might. Now hold still."

Daniel sighed in frustration and tilted his head back slightly as Neal reached out and took a hold of the ends of his black tie. With practiced ease Neal tied the short black cloth into a perfectly symmetrical bow tie. After making sure the tie was straight Neal glanced at his own reflection in the near by full length mirror. While Neal had been busy hiding the Hope in the statue, under careful guard, Glass had spared no expense in getting hand tailored suits for them. Staring into the reflection of his own eyes Neal became lost in memory, in his early years he remembered everyone had always told him he had his mother's eyes.

"Neal?" Daniel asked gently. "You okay?"

"Fine." Neal turned away from the mirror.

"Don't you believe Glass for a second that your mother just sold you to Caffrey."

"Dani..."

"We both know that Caffrey was a man who got what he wanted. Glass didn't say this but you know that she had the option of accepting the 'gift' and pushing you away or to wake up one morning to the news that you'd been killed during one of your late night graffiti trips."

"She could have just told me the truth."

"And take the chance with your life that the prison guard listening wasn't in Caffrey's pocket?" Daniel countered. "She did the only thing she could. She loved you, you were her son she had to protect the only way she could, it was all an act."

"Well she played her part perfectly." Neal growled. "I never went back...not even for the funeral."

"You were in prison when she died." Daniel pointed out.

"I could have revealed my birth name, I could have gotten a prison escort to the service."

"No one would have ever believed you. Glass, or whoever he was, destroyed any physical evidence that you two were related."

"Wait...do you remember Glass' real name?" Neal asked suddenly.

"What?"

"Glass wasn't always 'Glass', he had to change his name when he fled Texas to start a new life to keep himself from being connected to Caffrey. He told us himself that he had to leave because of us. If you can remember his name we can have him extradited to Texas."

"Extradited? Neal, you don't just arrest a man like Glass. The rich and powerful don't face legal consequences in this country."

"Of course they do. Peter and I arrest rich and powerful men all of the time."

"How many of them see actual jail time?"

"I..." Neal paused and thought about the question "I guess I don't know."

"Exactly."

"Daniel, you're not planning on killing Glass are you?" Neal asked seriously.

Daniel's only response was silence.

"No." Neal said firmly. "No more blood, Daniel."

"It's the only way."

"You solve your problems the way a child does! Just try to stop and think once before acting."

"Are you saying you have a better solution?" Daniel demanded. "Even if he lets us live through the night, now that we know Glass is the man behind this you will never be safe, my son will never be safe, no one you know will ever be safe. This time when he wanted something it was Liam, what if he goes after Sara next?"

"He won't."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because he'll be behind bars."

"How?"

"I don't know yet, but I'll figure it out."

"Are you going to figure out a way to get the Hope back as well?" Daniel asked in an acidic tone.

"I'm working on that as well. Please, Daniel, I need you to follow my lead tonight. No violence. I know you're angry, but you have to let it go."

"I can't." Daniel admitted. "Glass tore me away from any chance I had at a normal life when he stole me from the foster system and tossed me into the home of a predator. Caffrey offered me everything I could ever want with one hand and was my greatest source of pain and fear with the other."

"Daniel, I'm so sorry, and I can't even imagine..."

"The older I got the more humiliating it became," Daniel continued "but what hurt the most was when I reached an age where Caffrey didn't want me anymore and you didn't need me."

"That's not true." Neal protested. "I was just preocu..."

"I'm not saying it's your fault. You were always more meant for the life Caffrey offered than I was." Daniel forced a sad smile. "But how can you not hate Glass for what he did to you? He took your mother from you."

"I'm angry, Daniel, but not to the point of wanting him dead."

"It's not about want, Neal, it's about need. I will give you until midnight to find another solution."

"Dani..."

"That's my only offer, Neal. I will not live my life in fear of Glass coming for my son again."

Neal wasn't about to just stand by at midnight and let Daniel go on another murderous rampage, but he nodded for now to buy some time. Daniel suddenly enveloped Neal in a powerful bear hug. Neal was just about to protest that he couldn't breath when Daniel released him. Neal reached out and straightened out Daniel's tie once more before doing the same to his own. There was a brief knock on the door before Glass invited himself inside.

"Ah," Glass beamed "you both clean up so well."

"Thanks." Daniel replied drily.

"I know you'll both be forced to go your separate ways after this. So please, take this night to enjoy your time together. And try not to make a scene, I'd hate to have you thrown out."

"Heaven forbid."

"Glass," Neal said "is this India diamond deal really worth all of this?"

"In a lot of ways, yes." Glass shrugged. "But it's not just about the money, Neal, you know that. When Daniel surfaced a few years ago I couldn't resist testing Caffery's experiment. I have to admit Daniel is every bit the master thief he raised him to be."

Neal lashed out just in time to keep Daniel from going for Glass' throat. Daniel stood down, but he clearly wasn't happy about it. Part of Neal wanted to let Daniel go, but he knew he'd regret the decision in the end. Glass was still fearless, trusting Neal to keep his violent counterpart in check.

"I have a lot of guests to attend to tonight." Glass announced. "I'll have you escorted downstairs. My men will make sure you stay out of trouble, and I do ask that you stay till the end so I can have the chance to say good bye."

Neal paid close attention to Glass' facial expression as he made his statement. He didn't like the way the older man had suddenly dropped all eye contact. Glass looked Neal and Daniel over one last time before turning to leave. The sorrow in Glass' dark eyes had been unmistakable.

The bodyguards that had been in the hall stepped inside to bring the pair downstairs. In the elevator Daniel stayed quiet although Neal knew exactly what he was thinking. The private elevator opened up on a spectacular scene as the entire Embassy had been decked out for the night's festivities. Indian women in traditional bright garb mingled with the more reserved dressed women of D.C while the men spotted the room in their stark black and white tuxedos. Neal glanced at all the available exits and found them all heavily guarded.

"Still think Glass is going to let us go?" Daniel asked seriously.

"No."

"I'll be on my best behavior for you tonight, but I'm not going down without a fight, Neal."

"Neither am I, but there is more than one way to win." 


	36. Chapter 36

White Collar: The Eye of Sita

Chapter Thirty Six

"Well, well," Sara chuckled "you clean up well, Peter."

"Don't tell, El, she'll expect me to take her out to places that are above my pay grade."

Sara chuckled as Peter self consciously straightened the tie of his rented tuxedo. He ran his hand over his jacket where his gun would usually be in its shoulder harness. Sara could see that he felt uneasy heading out to the Embassy without it. He slipped his badge into his breast pocket. After a brief moment of hesitation Peter picked up his hand cuffs and put them in his back pocket.

"Who are those for?" Sara asked.

"I don't know yet."

"Can you arrest someone on Embassy property?"

"I can, if I have the permission of the Embassy." Peter confirmed. "However right now I'm more concerned about finding Neal and getting him out of there."

"What about Daniel?"

"I only have enough patients left to deal with one Caffrey at a time."

"Understandable." Sara nodded knowingly. "I haven't decided what I think of Daniel yet either."

"Shall we?" Peter asked as he offered Sara his arm.

Flushing slightly Sara accepted Peter's gentlemanly offer. Dressed in an elegant white dress with gold accents Sara certainly looked ready to rub elbows with the DC elite. Inside, however, her stomach was twisted in a knot. They had no idea what they were walking in on or even who had invited them. It was convenient to think that Michelle was trying to help them, but it could just as easily be whoever had forced Daniel to take Neal.

They took Sara's car to the Embassy since her BMW blended in better than Peter's Ford at the high class event. The evening was just getting started and the guests were still trickling in through the lush garden that lead up to the large Embassy. Peter tensed slightly as he handed over their invitations to the doorman. There was always a chance that the invitations were forgeries. If the invitations were fake they were good enough to fool the guard.

Inside was bustling with glitter and glam. Sara spotted Congressmen, Senators, high ranking Military personal, along with the heads of the wealthy families who's money put most of the men around them into power. Most of the rooms on the main floor had been opened up for guests. Peter scanned the crowd with a critical eye as he spotted several of the people who had been in the information packet.

"These people practically run our government and not one of them looks like they live in the real world." Sara commented.

"Yeah, 'politics': comes from the latin 'poly' meaning 'many' and 'ticks' meaning 'blood suckers'. Not that New York doesn't have its fair share of obscenely wealthy."

"True."

Peter reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. Looking at the 'Fido Find' application he furrowed his brow before putting the phone away.

"According to the tracker Neal is 'within 50 meters', but that could several floors up or down. It's not very accurate."

"I'm guessing that the service expects you to be able to call your dog to 'come' from this distance."

"Neal's not big on commands."

"You know they always say that misbehavior is the owner's fault not the dog's." Sara teased.

"I might be better results if I could use a shock collar."

It was a little hard for Sara to tell if Peter was joking or not. As they moved deeper into the mingling crowd of guests it became clear that all of the rooms and exits were being carefully watched by posted guards. The men were dressed in tuxedoes like everyone else, but they did not act or carry themselves like guests.

"I wonder who they work for." Peter commented as he watched one of the guards.

"At least they haven't escorted us out yet."

"No, but one of them took off in a hurry when he spotted us. So any hope of a cover we hoped to have is probably already blown."

"So what's our next mo..."

Sara was interrupted as the lights sudden dimmed and raised the way they did at the opera to signify that intermission was over. Everyone else seemed to be expecting the announcement and moved into the large main room. In the middle of the room was a small circular stage that had been set up that held what Sara assumed was Neal's statue of Sita under a sheet of black silk.

Ambassador Bhatt stepped up onto the stage to the polite applause of his audience. Out of the six profiles Peter had been given he had already ruled out Bhatt, mostly due to his long history of humanitarian work. His profile didn't match someone who would work with a blood diamond dealer. However, when Bhatt invited Glass onto the stage with him Sara could see that Peter was mentally re-adding him to his list of suspects. Bhatt gave a brief introduction and turned the stage over to Glass.

"I'd like to thank each and every one of you all for coming tonight." Glass greeted warmly. "As promised I have a unique gift for the people of India tonight."

Glass turned and pulled the black silk from the life sized statue of Sita. There was an audible gasp from the crowd as the art work was revealed. Sara had already seen the half completed statue, but her breath was still taken away by the beauty of the completed work. Frozen in an eternal dance Sita stared out at the audience with her sightless eyes that held an expression of ultimate serenity. Her detailed dress had been studded in several thousand glittering diamonds.

"The diamonds that adorn this magnificent statue are all available in sets of one hundred through tonight's silent auction." Glass announced. "One hundred percent of the proceeds go to the India chapter of The Hunger Project to help fight India's devastating hunger problem. So enjoy the evening and bid generously."

Glass stepped down off the stage and shook hands with the Ambassadors, Senators, and the other powerful people in the room that had been given front row view of the unveiling. Four of the tuxedoed guards stood careful watch over the diamond studded statue as guests came in for a closer look. Glass and his small entourage of Indian delegates excused themselves and moved towards a private room in the back.

"Am I the only one who gets the feeling that there is more going on here than philanthropy?" Sara noted.

"Something here certainly doesn't add up." Peter agreed. "Walters was right, somehow all of this has to do with Glass aligning himself with an Indian diamond mine to wash African diamonds. What I don't understand is why Glass had Neal brought here rather than just finish it at the house."

"Glass must have a partner that was getting impatient?"

"Maybe." Peter replied unconvinced.

"Do you think the Hope Diamond is here?"

"If it is, it's lost for good. It would take a miracle to get a search warrant for a foreign Embassy. Particularly for a stone that hasn't been officially reported stolen."

"I can see where that could be a problem."

"Stay here." Peter said suddenly.

"Where are you going?"

"To rattle Glass' cage."

Before Sara could ask Peter if confronting Glass directly was a good idea he was already making his way across the room. Peter fought through the crowd like a salmon trying to swim upstream. Feeling a little out of place Sara looked around. She had to look twice when she caught sight of Daniel's unmistakable scar across the room. Standing in the far corner next to a large potted palm Daniel and Neal were perfectly matched with the rest of the party in their hand tailored tuxedos.

The pair were arguing quietly with one another, or rather Neal was arguing with Daniel. Whatever Neal had to say it was clear that Daniel's opinion on the matter was unchanged. Daniel listened to Neal politely, but only responded with one or two words and a the occasional casual shrug. Sara could tell from his body language that Neal was quickly becoming increasingly frustrated at Daniel's refusal to even engage in a proper argument.

Sara was sharply reminded of all the times she'd argued with her older brother to no avail. Moving towards them Sara was only able to observe their interaction for a minute before Daniel's trained eye spotted her. Daniel leaned in to whisper into Neal's ear. Jolting slightly in surprise Neal didn't turn to look for her.

Someone stepped past Sara's line of view, when they moved Daniel and Neal had melted into the crowd and disappeared. In the blink of an eye they were both simply gone. Looking around she noticed that several of the men serving as guards around the room had gone into high alert mode when Neal and Daniel performed their disappearing act.

Neal silently appeared at Sara's side in seconds. Without a word he took her by the wrist and practically dragged her over towards one of the small alcoves that pitted the walls. They didn't have absolute privacy against the wall, but they weren't exposed in the middle of the room the way they had been.

"How did you get in here?" Neal demanded.

"Nice to see you too, Neal."

"Sara, please, how did you get into the Embassy party?"

"We were invited."

"Invited? By who?"

"We don't know. Invitations and some info on the Ambassadors was waiting for us at Peter's hotel."

"Where's Peter now?"

"He went to confront Glass."

"Damn it." Neal growled. "Daniel, stay with her."

"Will do."

Sara was startled by Daniel's voice, she hadn't even noticed him sneak up behind her. It was a little frightening to see how well Neal and Daniel moved and blended in with the crowd. Like sharks that swam effortlessly and unnoticed by their prey the pair certainly seemed in their element. Neal leaned in and kissed Sara's cheek before merging into the party once more.

Turning around to face Daniel Sara forced a smile. She wasn't very happy with Neal leaving her alone with him. He was taller than Neal by a few inches and had a far more substantial muscular frame in comparison to Neal's lean body. Although Sara had to admit that Daniel wore the classy tuxedo every bit as well as Neal did. He took a step closer, but when Sara visibly tensed he backed off once more.

"Is my son safe?" Daniel asked anxiously.

"He's fine, he's with his mother."

"I can not thank you enough." Daniel replied with a slight bow. "If you ever need anything, I am at your service, M'lady."

"So you're the one who taught Neal his charm?" Sara asked as she relaxed slightly.

"It was the other way around actually." Daniel admitted.

"Under any other set of circumstances I would love to talk to you about what Neal was like growing up."

"Not much to tell, he hasn't changed much."

"Really?"

"Really." Daniel smiled.

"Daniel, we came in here thinking at least Neal needed rescue. What exactly is going on here?"

"Nothing Neal and I can't handle." Daniel replied dismissivly.

"That doesn't answer my question." Sara said firmly.

"I like you, Sara." Daniel chuckled. "I bet you see right through all of Neal's charms and cons."

"Most of them." Sara admitted. "Still waiting for an explanation."

"Do you want the short version or the long version?"

"Let's start with the short one."

"Glass is planning to kill us after this little party of his."

"What?"

"Don't worry about it."

"Murder is something I tend to worry about."

"Don't. If you weren't safe Neal wouldn't have left you here." Daniel smiled brightly. "Glass is playing with fire, and that never ends well. One way or another he will no longer be a threat come midnight."

"You're kinda scary." Sara said seriously. "You know that right?"

"I certainly wouldn't want to have me as an enemy."


	37. Chapter 37

NOTE: I literally worked on this ALL DAY. I started around noon and it just hit midnight. Enjoy...I need to go to bed.

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><p>White Collar: The Eye of Sita<p>

Chapter Thirty Seven

Trying to not draw attention to himself Neal mingled through the party in search of Peter. Being an 'unknown' at a Who's Who party wasn't always the best cover. Since Neal was at the event everyone assumed he must be someone important. The fact that he didn't want to stop and talk to people about himself made them assume he was powerful enough to not need to advertise. This combined with a graceful cheek line and a slight limp made Neal an irresistible target for 'small talk'.

"Hello there." A well dress cougar purred as she stepped into Neal's path. "What's your name?"

"Nick Halden." Neal replied. "I'm Lead Auditor with the IRS."

"Oh." The woman eyed him warily.

"Most people find the Tax Code boring, but it has a variety of fascinating aspects."

Visibly turing pale at the prospect of a conversation about Tax Law the predatory female acted as though she just spotted someone across the room that she had to say hello to. As Neal moved on he put his palm against his hip. He discovered that despite the constant ache at least the site of the tracker chip had stopped bleeding. Neal was wondering how accurate the tracker was when he finally caught site of Peter.

Rather than call out to him Neal circled around and intercepted Peter just as he was approaching Ambassador Bhatt. Neal stepped between Peter and the Ambassador and then just kept walking off towards the bar. He was certain that Peter was following him, and he casually ordered a drink from the bartender. Drink in hand he turned around to face Peter. By leading him over to the bar they'd have some heavy glass bottle to work with if Glass' men decided against their reunion.

"Peter..."

"Neal, what is in your pocket?" Peter demanded.

"I don't suppose you'll believe that I'm just happy to see you?" Neal asked with a forced smile.

"No." Peter replied darkly before lowering his voice. "Neal, why do you have a gun?"

"It just has blanks." Neal assured. "How did you know?"

"Academy training, an Agent's life often depends on spotting a weapon before it's drawn."

"Good point. Chairman Mao once said 'the only real defense is an active defense'."

"Don't channel Mozzie to distract from the issue." Peter replied with mild irritation.

"Right...the issue being?"

"I thought you'd been kidnapped, maybe even killed. Instead I find you partying along side the DC elite."

"It was a forced invitation." Neal replied defensively. "I was kidnapped, and someone is planing to kill me."

"Where's Daniel?"

"With Sara, and 'no' he's not the one looking to kill me."

"It's Glass, isn't it?" Peter sighed. "It's always been him, right from the start."

"More than you know."

Peter listened intently as Neal gave him the short version of everything that had happened since he woke up in the Embassy. He glossed over the part where Daniel had actually killed the guards. He didn't directly lie about it, but he left their fate open ended. Peter didn't say anything when Neal told him about how Glass tied into his and Daniel's past, however his expression of repulsed horror at the buying and selling of their lives was evident. Neal also excluded the details about his mother as he brought the story to an end.

"Glass has been watching Daniel this whole time," Peter concluded "just waiting for the Hope to be in New York to give Daniel the best chance of stealing it."

"He's a very patient criminal." Neal agreed.

"So you think Glass invited Sara and I to help tie up loose ends?"

"I don't think so." Neal shook his head. "Glass didn't want killing Daniel and I to be part of the plan, we forced his hand when we broke into his penthouse here. But he knows what Sara looks like and he seems to have done his homework on you."

"So all four of us are targets now."

"Pretty much."

"Great." Peter glanced around the room.

"I'm guessing there is a sniper or two waiting for us when we try to leave. If we are killed on Embassy grounds it will be almost impossible to run a proper investigation."

"I can't call for back up here, Neal. Even if Walters wanted to help us he couldn't. If I can get the Ambassador's permission I can arrest Glass on the kidnaping charges."

"Peter, you and I both know that my accusations against Glass will never hold up in any court."

"No, but arresting him tonight may just save our lives."

"But it won't save Glass' life." Neal said.

"I don't understand."

"Daniel is not going to accept Glass being a free man. Either we get something on Glass tonight and arrest him for serious charges that will stick or Daniel is going to kill him come midnight."

"I could arrest Daniel too." Peter offered. "He broke into the Federal Building and destroyed your paintings."

"Alleged paintings." Neal corrected with a smile. "But arresting Daniel, that's not even an option. He won't allow it."

"Allowing yourself to be arrested isn't a prerequisite for it, you should know that."

"In Daniel's case it is."

"If he wants Glass dead tonight he'll make that happen, won't he?"

"Yes he will."

Neal watched as Peter thought over all the new information he'd been given. He had learned long ago that Peter often needed a minute or two to go over the options in his head. It was a trait that had annoyed Neal when they had first started working together, but over time he was starting to learn the value of thinking before acting.

"Okay." Peter nodded as he finally collected his thoughts. "First things first. We need to talk to the Ambassador and get permission to arrest Glass."

"For what?"

"My first thought would be for identity fraud. He must have changed his name after leaving Texas."

"The way he talked about it I get the feeling that he might have some open warrants under his original name."

"This would be a lot easier if we had his birth name. You're sure you don't remember it?"

"I don't think I ever even knew it."

"Let's worry about that later."

Neal agreed and looked around to see if he could spot Ambassador Bhatt. Spotting his prey Neal pointed him out to Peter. As they walked across the busy room Neal did his best to hide his limp. The longer he spent on his feet the more irritating the chip embedded in the muscle was becoming.

"Neal..." Peter hesitated "are you alright?"

"My hip is just sore from the tracker. I'm sure you love the service, but I really need to get this thing out."

"I actually wasn't taking physically."

"Oh, right. I haven't really had a chance to think about..." Neal stopped as he noticed something wrong with Peter's shirt collar. "Peter are you...are you wearing make-up?"

"It was Sara's idea." Peter explained as he rubbed at his throat revealing some of the deep purple bruising under the foundation. "It's not exactly easy to blend in with a crowd with ligature marks."

"People would probably just think you're into autoerotic asphyxiation." Neal chuckled.

"Auto-what now? Actually, no, don't explain. I don't want to know."

"You really don't." Neal agreed as they reached the Ambassador.

"Ambassador Bhatt," Peter greeted "I'm Special Agent Peter Burke with the FBI, this is..."

"Neal Caffrey." The Ambassador finished before Peter could. "Our paths have crossed in the past."

"They have?" Neal asked in surprise.

"In India. The Blood of Rama Ruby."

"Oh...um..."

"Do not worry about it, Mr. Caffrey, the man you stole it from was a thief himself and if rumors are to believed you gave the ruby back to the Mandir that it originally belonged to."

"I don't like to spread rumors." Neal replied politely.

"A true gentleman." Bhatt praised before turning back to Peter. "How can I help you Agent?"

"I'd like to talk to you about an American at the Embassy."

"Of course, Agent." Bhatt replied with a genuine smile. "Does our conversation require privacy?"

"That would be best."

"Follow me."

As the Ambassador lead them away Peter shot Neal a glare before just shaking his head in disbelief. Neal flashed him an apologetic smile. The Ambassador took them through one of the halls to a private den type room with large leather chairs and books lining the walls. Neal was a little surprised with how willing the Ambassador was to be helpful. He offered the pair a seat but they declined.

"Is this about Harold Glass?" Bhatt asked.

"What do you know about him?" Peter asked rather than answered.

"Claimed self-made man, started with private trips to Africa solo about fifteen years ago, managed to be in the 'right place at the right time', took only two years before he became the world's largest rough diamond dealer. He has been suspected multiple times of trading in African blood diamonds, but no one has ever successfully brought charges against him."

"Sounds like you've done your research." Neal said.

"When the 'White King of Africa' decides to give a gift of several million dollars worth of diamonds to the people of India it raises suspicions." Bhatt explained. "India used to be the center of the diamond world and I fear that Glass wishes to help us reclaim that title by washing African blood diamonds in our rivers."

"Why didn't you go to the US authorities?" Peter asked.

"I did, Agent Burke, in fact I recently called and spoke to an Agent with at FBI."

"Agent Walters?" Neal asked.

"That's correct."

"What did he have to say?"

"He told me that he shared my suspicions, but to date there was no evidence against Glass that he could use. I told him that Glass was going to be looking to have a statue of Sita commissioned for the auction and he thanked me for the information. I assume he talked to you."

"He did." Peter confirmed. "However, we still do not have a solid link between Glass and the African diamonds."

"Perhaps there is no link, perhaps all of Glass' diamonds are clean." Bhatt said doubtfully. "If you did not come here to arrest him for diamond washing then why are you here?"

"I'm here to ask permission to arrest Glass on suspicion of kidnapping, and identity fraud."

"Do you have a warrant?"

"No." Peter admitted.

"Without a warrant I can not give you that permission as much as I'd like to."

"What if we got one?" Neal asked hopefully.

"In that case I would gladly have him dragged off Indian soil, Mr. Caffrey."

"Thank you for your cooperation, Ambassador." Peter said honestly.

"My thanks to the FBI for taking my suspicions seriously. For the sake of the Hunger Project I hope that our fears are unfounded. I do not wish to feed India at the expense of Africa."

"Understood."

The Ambassador took them back out to the main room and said good bye once more. Neal had thought about informing the helpful Ambassador that the Hope Diamond was embedded in the gifted statue. However there would still be no tangible evidence to link Glass and the Hope, particularly when the only set of fingerprints currently on the Hope belong to Neal.

"If Daniel can remember Glass' real name, we'll have our warrant, and what I'm guessing is a very long list of crimes in connection with Robert Caffrey." Neal said.

"Do you think Daniel can remember it?"

"I don't know, he doesn't like to think about his past let alone dig around in it. But it's our best shot at Glass."

Neal headed back to where he'd left Sara and Daniel. When they arrived Sara was looking around, but she was alone. Neal's blood ran cold as hurried the rest of the way to Sara. Peter scanned the area, but Daniel's wasn't in sight.

"Sara, where's Daniel? He was supposed to stay with you."

"I'm sorry, Neal. I don't know where he went, he's left just a few minutes after you did. I swear I just blinked and he was gone."

"Damn it." Neal growled.

"Now you know how I feel." Peter pointed out.

"What?"

"I'm always asking you to stay put and you never do. I turn my back for a second and you're off causing trouble."

"That's not true." Neal protested. "I'm usually off solving whatever case we happen to be working on, just...in my own way."

"The point is that you can't be depended on to do as you're told or even as you're asked. So you can't fault Daniel for having the exact same character flaw. Hell, he probably learned it from you."

"Can we not have this argument right now?" Neal asked seriously. "He's going after Glass, we need to find him now."

Before anyone could make any suggestions there was a flurry of activity from several of Glass' guards. The trio instantly went to follow the guards across the room and down the hall to one of the private back dinning rooms. Daniel had invited himself to the table where Glass had been talking with three of the other Ambassadors. Daniel caught sight of Neal and beckoned him to come over. Glass was calm with Daniel sitting next to him. He still had no fear of Daniel, in fact he waved the guards away.

"Ambassadors, if you would please excuse us for a few minutes." Glass said to his guests.

The Indian delegates didn't waste any time in leaving. The guards had been keeping Peter and the others at a distance, but now that Glass had dismissed them they were able to step up to the table. Glass looked up at them and smiled.

"Agent Burke, Miss Ellis," Glass greeted "I have to say I was not expecting to see you here tonight."

"Glass, it's over." Peter said firmly. "Just come with me peacefully."

"Oh," Glass said in a disappointed tone "I thought you were here to arrest the Caffreys. You know they broke into my house, don't you? I have them on tape doing so. What exactly am I being arrested for?"

Neal tensed when Daniel leaned in closer to Glass. Daniel had his hands clenched into white knuckled fists and the muscles along his jaw were tense with his barely contained rage. Glass didn't seem to notice how close he was to a quick and violent death. Peter could see how tense the situation was and looked to Neal for help. If Daniel decided to lash out at Glass there wasn't going to be anything they could do to stop the blood shed.

"Daniel, please..."

"Peter is trying to do you a favor." Daniel growled at Glass. "You can go with him, or you can come with me."

"And just where are you going?"

"Straight to hell."

For the first time there was a flash of fear in Glass' dark eyes. Daniel stared Glass down with terrifying intensity. Glass stared back for a moment, but eventually he backed down. Regaining his composure Glass looked up at Peter.

"I don't see why I should have to go anywhere with either of you."

"You didn't fool everyone with your generous gift." Daniel informed him. "Ambassador Bhatt has given Peter full permission to haul you out of here. I'm just here to make sure the arrest goes smoothly."

"Really?" Glass asked doubtfully before he turned his attention to Peter. "Agent Burke, do you have a warrant with my name on it?"

"No." Peter admitted.

"Well come back when you have one." Glass shrugged.

"He has one." Daniel said. "Or at least he will in a few minutes."

"For what?" Glass sneered. "Agent Burke has nothing on me."

"He has nothing on 'Glass'." Daniel corrected. "But that's not you."

"Daniel, do you remember his name?" Neal asked hopefully.

"I have a pretty good guess."

"A guess isn't going to get you a warrant." Glass said confidently. "And it certainly isn't going to prove anything."

"You may have been able to erase Neal's past to the point where even he can't find himself, but you would have been in a rush after Caffrey's death and it's not as easy to remove every trace of a fully grown adult."

"None of that matters if you don't have a name."

"I've heard your name so many times, but I was just never really listening."

"If you think my name is 'Caffrey' I have disappointing news for you."

"No, but funny you should mention Caffrey, because he's the one who told me."

"You're bluffing." Glass said confidently. "I don't have to listen to this. I'm going to have to ask you to lea..."

"Agent Burke, do you have access to the Federal Warrant database on your phone?" Daniel asked.

"I do."

"There's an ap for that?" Neal asked in surprise.

"Right here," Peter pulled out his phone and opened the program "all I need is a name."

"Harold Williams."

Daniel's voice had barely been above a whisper, but the effect on Glass as devastating as gun shot wound. The color instantly drained from Glass' face. Peter was busy looking up the name, but Neal knew that Daniel had it right. Once he recovered from the initial shock Glass stared at Daniel in horror.

"How?" Glass whispered.

"You know how." Daniel growled darkly. "Caffrey was a very careful man...but all of us slip up now and again in a moment of passion."

"No..."

"He loved you, or at the very least he fantasied about fuc..."

"Stop." Glass begged. "I'm sorry, Caffrey swore to me you'd have a good home, I thought I was saving you from the foster system. I figured it out years later. I tried to get him help, but he didn't want it. He kept evidence of my involvement and after his dea..."

"I'm not interested in your side of the story." Daniel interrupted coldly. "Just be grateful that Neal talked me into searching my past for you. It is not exactly a memory I cherish. If it had been up to me I would have just killed you."

"Harold Williams," Peter said as he retrieved the cuffs from his back pocket "you are under arrest for kidnapping, endangering a minor, and human trafficking."

The cornered look in Williams' eyes suddenly turned to defeat. He took a breath to say something to Daniel, but he seemed to realize that anything he had to say would fall on deaf ears. Getting to his feet Williams peacefully allowed Peter to take him into custody.

"Agent Burke..." Williams paused for a moment "there's a man on the roof of the Embassy, you may want to have him investigated before allowing your partner to step outside."

"Neal, stay here with Daniel until everything is clear." Peter said. "Sara can you help me by finding Ambassador Bhatt?"

Sara had remained a silent observe during the events. She nodded at Peter's request and left with him. Neal was grateful to them both for giving him some time alone with Daniel. Daniel had pushed himself away from the table and had wandered over to the open window. He stared sightlessly out at the gardens. Neal walked up and stood next to him. The pair stared out at the serene garden in silence for a while.

"I'm proud of you, Daniel."

"I really, really wanted to kill him." Daniel admitted.

"I know."

"Thank you." Daniel said as he turned and drew Neal into a warm embrace.

"For what?"

"Stopping me." Daniel smiled sadly. "Lucky for him that he didn't change his first name."

"Somehow first names can be harder to leave behind."

"I never really questioned the times Caffrey called me 'Williams', I didn't even really remember it until I sat down at that table. I don't know what I would have done if I'd been wrong."

"Let's not worry about that."

"Did you tell Peter where the Hope is?"

"No."

"What? Why not?"

"I didn't want to put him in position where he had to trust you to take it back."

"Me? How are we going to get it without Peter knowing?"

"I have a plan." Neal assured.

"One last heist together?" Daniel asked with a bright smile.

"Just like old times..." 


	38. Chapter 38

Note from the Phoenix: Thanks to everyone who has been reading this story. It got a LOT longer than I ever meant it to. There is a short epilogue after this. I need to go back and change a few things to fix some continuity flaws, but that's what happens when you write chapter to chapter without a plan! I'm surprised things worked out as well as they did. I hope you've enjoyed! This story has been a lot of work, but it has also been a lot of fun. I'm going to miss Daniel.

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><p>White Collar: The Eye of Sita<p>

Chapter Thirty Eight

"That's your plan?"

"Simplest plans always work out the best." Neal pointed out.

"It's still a terrible idea."

"Do you have a better one?"

Daniel thought in silence for a moment.

"I didn't think so." Neal huffed.

"Peter is not going to be impressed." Daniel said. "Don't you have some sort of 'best behavior' clause in your FBI agreement?"

"Don't worry about Peter."

"I don't want you ending up wearing that anklet for the next hundred years because of this damn diamond."

"That's not going to happen."

"You're right, you'll go directly back to federal prison. No questions asked."

"You're such a pessimist. This is going to work."

"We should just tell Peter where it is. Ambassador Bhatt seems like a very reasonable guy, I bet he'd just let Peter have the statue."

"If Peter gets the diamond first you don't get your life back. We both know you have to be the one to bring the stone home if you ever want the NSA to trust you again, and without the NSA you'll never see Michelle or Liam again."

Daniel didn't have a reasonable argument for this and Neal didn't wait around for him to think of one. Peter was busy with Ambassador Bhatt in one of the offices somewhere with the surprising amount of paperwork that went along with arresting an American citizen on Embassy soil. Everything had been done quietly so the party was going on as though nothing had happened. Neal slid up next to Sara who was standing near one of the archways with a drink in hand.

"Everything okay?" Sara asked. "How's Daniel doing?"

"He'll be okay. He's tough."

"What about you? I can't even being to pretend that I fully understand what's going on, but I can only assume that if Daniel..."

"Daniel and I entered the Caffrey house under very different circumstances." Neal interrupted. "I'll tell you about it some time."

"Along with your real name?" Sara teased.

"That's really important to you, isn't it?"

"I'm just curious."

"Right." Neal replied doubtfully.

"So what's our next move?"

"Actually...I need a favor."

"The way you ask makes me think it's illegal in nature."

"It may involve some tampering of Embassy property."

"Will it help get the Hope Diamond back?"

"Maybe." Neal smiled.

"Then I'm in."

Sara listened carefully to the instructions Neal gave her. She started to question the wisdom of his plan but Neal stopped her with a quick kiss before going back to where Daniel was making idle chatter with a group of enthralled older women. He was telling them tales of his adventures as a Federal Agent along with a fictitious heroic yarn about how he got his scar. With his back to the group Neal pretended to just be enjoying the party.

Despite the fact that Glass had been arrested the guards were still on full alert. Neal assumed that they were actually being paid by whoever Glass had planned to give the diamond too. With Glass out of the way the new owner of the Hope wouldn't have to give him anything in return.

About thirty feet away up on the dais the statue of Sita glittered with her diamond encrusted outfit. The clay hadn't had a chance to fully dry yet and would still be soft to the touch. Neal glanced down at his watch and decided that Sara would have had plenty of time to get into position by now. Grabbing a drink from a passing waiter Neal walked up behind Daniel and made it look like he accidentally bumped into him.

"I'm sorry, Si..." Neal stopped cold when Daniel turned around to face him.

"You!" Daniel spat in disgusted recognition.

With his eyes widened in a combination of mock surprise and horror Neal froze for a moment. Daniel swung at him with all his strength. Ducking just in time to avoid being knocked with what may have proven to be a fatal blow Neal threw his recently acquired drink in Daniel's face before making a run for it.

Roaring like an enraged bear Daniel chased after Neal. He grabbed Neal by the back of his collar and jerked him back. Neal threw his elbow back and caught Daniel under the jaw, but Daniel kept his grip on Neal's jacket. Neal freed himself by simply slipping out of the tailored jacket. Cries of alarm from the people nearest the sudden fight started to attract other on lookers.

Daniel tackled Neal from behind allowing them to stumble closer to the clay statue. Driven to the floor under Daniel Neal experienced a true adrenaline rush as his 'attacker' wrapped his hands around his throat. They had spent hours as teenagers perfecting their simulated fighting in case a con called for it. However, in an effort to make the diversion look real Daniel was gripping down too tight for comfort. Neal brought his fist up and struck Daniel in the ribs hard. Crying out breathlessly Daniel released him.

Two of the guards broke away from their post at the statue and moved in to separate Neal and Daniel as they continued to brawl. When they got close enough Daniel grabbed Neal by the front of his shirt and hauled him to his feet. Neal took a deep breath and braced himself to be thrown into the on coming guards. Daniel shoved Neal into the men with enough force to send all three of them to the floor. Neal made sure to catch one of the guards across the nose with his elbow, easily breaking it.

When Daniel renewed his attack Neal was able to move out of the way at the last minute so that Daniel could knock the other guard out but make it look like a mistake. It was important to sell the idea the crowd that this was just between Neal and Daniel and that Daniel was the aggressor. Neal scrambled away and got within ten feet of the dais with the statue. Daniel came for a him again and they exchanged a few blows. It wasn't long before they both panting for breath with the athletic act.

"Any time now, Sara." Neal muttered to himself.

Neal was afraid that he and Daniel weren't going to be able to keep up the show much longer when the lights finally went out. The gawking audience turned from curious alarm to true panic when plunged into darkness. Neal had memorized where his target was and made a dash for it. The remaining guards had tightened their circle around the statue, but Daniel easily took care of them.

Neal dug his fingers into the cold clay over the statue's heart and dug out the Hope Diamond. Once he had the stone he threw his shoulder into the statue to tip it over. What he wasn't counting on was someone knocking into him at the same time. Still in darkness Neal fell along with the statue. After hitting the ground Neal was surprised to find his arm pinned to the floor. His hand under the heavy wet statue was still clutched around the Hope Diamond. Neal struggled to pull himself free as the lights came back up.

"Neal!" Daniel cried out.

"I'm not hurt." Neal assured. "Just go!"

"Federal Agent!" A familiar voice barked above the panicked crowd.

"That's Walters, Daniel he's here for you. Get out of here."

"I can't just leave you here." Daniel said as he tried to pull Neal's arm out from under the wet clay.

"Daniel, I wouldn't be leaving with you even if you got me out." Neal said firmly. "Go, getting caught by Walters is not going to make anything better."

Daniel sighed heavily and nodded. He leaned down and kissed the top of Neal's head before disappearing into the crowd of fleeing party guests. Neal looked his situation over once more and tried unsuccessfully to free himself. His arm had sunk into the soft clay as the statue had fallen on top of it. Although not painful he was still trapped by the heavy clay. He reasoned that if he opened his hand and let go of the Hope he could slip free, but letting go of the stone wasn't an option.

"Neal Caffrey, I should have known." Walters growled as he stepped up to him. "Where's Daniel?"

"I don't know." Neal answered. "Can you get someone to help get this off me?"

"Not until you tell me what's going on."

"He was attacked." A man standing near by replied. "I saw the whole thing. This guy just jumped him for no reason."

"It's true." Neal agreed. "Knocked me right into the statue."

"Oh for crying out loud." Walters grumbled.

"Neal?" Peter called out.

"Peter? Peter, over here!"

Peter reached the scene with a look of an angry parent that had come home to find the living room destroyed by rough housing kids. However when he saw that Neal appeared injured his expression softened slightly. Acting more injured than he was Neal grimaced in pain and tugged at his trapped arm.

"Walters, don't just stand there." Peter demanded. "Help me get this off him."

"Burke, the Caffreys plotted every second of all of this..."

"Shut up, Walters. Help or go away."

Walters ground his teeth together but he did reach down and help Peter pry up on the ruined statue. With some of the weight removed Neal braced his free hand against the heap of diamonds and mud that was holding him down. Pulling hard he finally tore himself free. Rolling away from the statue Neal held his freed arm protectively against his chest. Peter came over and helped him to his feet. Walters came up with hand cuffs already in hand.

"Where's the Hope Diamond, Caffrey?" Walters demanded. "Put your hands up."

"Walters..." Peter warned.

"It's okay, Peter." Neal offered as he raised his hands.

Walters stepped up and skillfully checked all of Neal's pockets. Even with every pocket turned inside out Walters continued his search. Neal peacefully allowed the frustrated Agent to run his hands over him in hopes of finding the diamond somehow hidden.

"You go any further and you're going to have to buy me dinner." Neal chuckled.

"Don't be a smart ass, Caffrey, you're in a lot of trouble."

"I haven't done anything. There are dozens of witnesses, I was attacked."

"Attacked my ass!"

"Walters," Peter intervened "why are you even here?"

"I have an arrest warrant for Daniel Caffrey."

"Okay, fine, unless you have one for Neal Caffrey I suggest you stop harassing him."

"Peter has a point," Neal smiled "you have been bringing a lot of unfounded charges against me lately. I could file a complaint."

Walters ground his teeth together in barely contained rage. He turned his ire on Peter, but seeing that he was defeated he simply glared at him spitefully. Peter remained calm which just served to anger Walters further.

"You two deserve each other and when you both go down in flames you'd best believe I will be there to piss on your ashes."

"Wow." Neal said impressed with Walters' vivid imagery.

Walters turned and stormed off. Peter turned to Neal and narrowed his eyes. Neal flashed him an innocent smile that Peter didn't buy for a second. Suddenly looking weary Peter shook his head sadly and sighed.

"Normally I'd ask, or rather demand to know what the hell is going on, but in this one case I think it's better that I just not know."

"It really is."

"Okay. I need to finish here with Glass. I plan to leave for New York first thing in the morning, you'd better be ready to go by then."

Neal was a little surprised that Peter was willing to just let him go for the rest of the night. Before Peter could change his mind Neal headed towards the door. The Embassy workers had gotten control of the panic and people were leaving in an orderly fashion. Neal assumed that Peter had somehow smoothed things out with the Ambassador as soon as word of the fight had reached him. They had not figured out who Glass' partner was, but they couldn't win everything.

Before he left the Embassy Neal hunted down Sara. He had sent her to the system that had dimmed the lights to get the audiences attention at the beginning of the night and turn the house lights down for the snatch. Neal and Sara found each other quickly and stepped over to the alcoves once again for privacy.

"How was the fight?" Sara asked with a smile.

"Let's just say even though it was staged I will still be sore in the morning." Neal answered ruefully. "I'll see you back in New York."

"What about the Hope?"

"You're off the case." Neal smiled and gave her a kiss.

"And Peter?"

"He's given me a free pass on this one."

"I'm not sure if you deserve it or not." Sara teased.

"Oh I know I don't. I'll find a way to make it up to him."

"I think getting the Hope back to the Smithsonian will cover it." Sara replied. "I assume Daniel has it. Are you sure he'll take it back?"

"He will. I promise. I have to go."

"Neal, wait...curiosity is killing me. Please, I won't tell anyone else I swear."

Neal smiled and leaned in to whisper his birth name into Sara's ear. She furrowed her brow for a second.

"I like 'Caffrey' better." Sara said.

"So do I."

Neal gave Sara once last kiss before leaving. Any guards that were on Glass' or his partner's pay role clearly had decided to cut their losses and no one stopped Neal from leaving. Once back on the streets of DC Neal called for a taxi. He and Daniel hadn't prearranged a meeting place since Daniel was meant to already have the Hope. However he had a fairly good idea where he could find Daniel.

Getting to the National Museum of Art Neal found Daniel waiting for him at the bottom of the marble steps. Daniel smiled brightly and drew Neal into a powerful bear hug. Neal returned the affection even though he was ready to physically drop from exhaustion.

"I knew you'd show up here." Daniel chuckled as he released Neal.

"And I knew you'd know that." Neal smiled.

"It's been a wild ride, hasn't it?"

"It really has."

"You still glad I'm alive?"

"Of course. I just wish you'd told me sooner."

"Me too."

The conversation turned to an awkward silence. Neal knew that Daniel wanted to ask him to go with him. At the same time Daniel already knew that Neal would say 'no'. Smiling sadly Daniel just reached out and ran his hand through Neal's hair before taking a step back.

"So, how did you get the Hope past Walters?"

"I...um...I swallowed it." Neal admitted.

"What happened to 'it's a part of history and a National Treasure not to be disgraced'?" Daniel mocked.

"You want the diamond or not?"

"I don't know...she seems somehow violated now."

"Daniel," Neal growled as he crossed his arms over his abdomen "I'm in no mood for jokes right now."

"Dessert was a little too rich, eh?"

"Believe it or not two hundred and fifty million dollars worth of diamond isn't exactly settling well in my stomach."

"Imagine that. Come on, let's find a hotel so you can puke up the world's most valuable diamond in privacy."

Daniel put his arm over Neal's shoulder and started to guide him across the Mall. As they walked Neal found his stomach twisting for reasons other than the large diamond sloshing around in it. Daniel seemed to pick up on Neal's uneasiness and stopped.

"Neal?"

"Are we ever going to see each other again?"

"Don't worry, I'll send you a birthday card." 


	39. Chapter 39

White Collar: The Eye of Sita

Epilogue

Just over eight months since his tumultuous trip to DC Neal sat in his apartment watching the rain lash against the glass doors that lead out to the patio. It was late in the day but he was still lounging in his pajamas. Mesmerized by the rain Neal subconsciously rubbed at his tracking anklet with his barefoot. Outside the storm lightened and turned to a steady drizzle that ran down the glass making the world outside appear to melt.

Neal looked over his shoulder at the mail spread out over the kitchen. Feeling heavy hearted Neal turned his attention back to the rain. He wasn't sure how long he spent staring at the lightning dancing across the gray New York sky before there was a knock at the door.

Jumping up Neal rushed over to the door. Opening the heavy oak door Neal did his best to hide his disappointment when his visitor was not who he was expecting. Smiling brightly Mozzie invited himself in. He held up a bottle of wine with a blue ribbon tied around it and pushed it into Neal's hands.

"Happy birthday!"

"Thank you, Mozzie. Let's see," Neal looked at the label "a bottle of your favorite wine...you shouldn't have."

"I know. I'll get glasses."

Neal was forced to chuckle as Mozzie bustled over to the cabinet to get a set of glasses. Neal went over to the drawer and pulled out a cork screw. Joining Mozzie over at the kitchen table Neal poured the deep red wine into the glasses that Mozzie had fetched. Mozzie lifted his glass and Neal obliged and clinked glasses before taking a drink. Neal took a half hearted sip at the dark wine before turning his attention back to the mail sitting on the table.

"Neal?" Mozzie asked with concern. "You okay?"

"I'm fine." Neal replied unconvincingly. "I was just expecting to hear from someone today."

"Peter didn't wish you a happy birthday?"

"He did, even gave me the day off."

"Looks like you needed it." Mozzie noted. "What's on your mind?"

"Nothing."

Before Mozzie could press further there was another knock at the door. The gentle sound told Neal that it was June at his door. June leaned in and gave Neal's cheek a kiss as she wished him a happy birthday. She handed him a medium sized flat box that had been wrapped in plain brown paper.

"This just arrived by special courier for you." June said as she handed over the package. "No name or return address."

"Thank you, June." Neal said brightly.

"I take it you know who it is from?"

"I think so."

June didn't pry any more and simply said hello and good bye to Mozzie before leaving. Neal brought the package over to the table and pulled off the brown paper. Under the brown paper was a blank white card. Neal smiled and picked up the card. Mozzie watched as Neal tapped the card on the table so he could peel it into two pieces. Neal went over to the cupboard and brought over a clear liquid that he brushed onto the exposed paper.

"What's that?" Mozzie asked.

"Silver nitrate."

"Of course, developing a secret message. Nice."

The silver nitrate reacted with the common table salt message that had been painted into the interior of the card. Neal recognized the sloppy handwriting instantly.

"What does it say?"

"What else?" Neal smiled. "'Happy Birthday'."

"Of course."

Neal set the card aside and carefully opened the box. He lifted up a badly damaged and torn canvas painting in a wooden frame of Monet's water lilies. Putting the painting down on the table he smoothed out the ripped canvas to reveal the beautiful painting.

"Yeowch." Mozzie commented. "Looks like someone put their fist through it."

"I think it was my elbow."

"I take it this painting holds some deep sentimental value for you?"

"This is my first true forgery. I spent years completing this painting, only to fall backwards and destroy it."

"Does this have something to do with this 'Daniel' character you've been avoiding telling me about."

Neal sighed. After returning to New York after the odd reunion the last thing Neal had really wanted to talk about was Daniel. Mozzie was clearly hurt that he had shared the story with Peter and not him. Giving in Neal drained the rest of his glass of wine and retold the tale to Mozzie. He included the part where Daniel had added the real Monet to the evidence in DC.

"So Peter handed the original back over to Paris?"

"It was finally authenticated last month. They threw a huge gala for its return."

"I bet."

"I think I'll restore this." Neal smiled as he touched the canvas fondly.

"Wait a minute, you said you'd just finished the painting when you fell through it?" Mozzie asked.

"It hadn't even been an hour before that I'd put the last brush stroke on it."

"So why isn't the paint smeared?"

Neal knit his brow together as he more closely inspected the tattered painting. The wet oil paint should have smeared when he fell through it. The paint where the canvas was ripped was chipped in places, but not blended together. More than that the paint showed all the classice signs of aging. Looking in the corner where his hidden signature should be Neal gasped sharply.

"Neal?"

"Mozzie...this is the real Monet. I destroyed an original Monet, it was my painting in DC."

"You got fooled by your own forgery?"

"Daniel must have aged it for me before sending it to Walters."

"So that means your work is..."

"...hanging in the Louvre."


End file.
